I just popped out for a sauna. It is highly possible that I have terrible sauna etiquette. For a start, I look fantastic naked. (Especially lying down, when all the fat is cunningly sucked away by gravity*). To make the other sauna people feel better about themselves, I take a very relaxed approach. I like to start by spreading out as much as possible, but the sauna ledges are disarmingly shallow, so occasionally one of my arms flops off. I am extremely stoic by nature, but obviously greet such MIND-BLOWING pain with a litany of ouches. I keep the other arm slung across my face, as a defence against both those fat hot water drops that plummet from the ceiling, and envious eyes. Occasionally, in a moment of daring, I raise both my arms in the air to reassure myself that my ballet teacher was wrong, and I would have made a spectacular ballerina. (I was 5, and I was distracted during my ballet recital by the raucous and uncontrolled laughter from my parents).
(My parents took an oddly relaxed approach to a ballet recital dress code)
The real trouble with the sauna is that there’s nothing to do. So I like to make helpful remarks to the other sauna people, ‘ooh, terribly hot in here, isn’t it?’ and ‘I wonder how many of those little tiles there are on the walls. Shall we count them? I’ll start.’ I can see now that perhaps I’m not the model sauna-goer. (Ironically, given my naked model-like looks). But I reassure myself that I am far better than the lady in the sauna today, who came in and raised her legs:
(Like this, but NAKED)
DO NOT COME INTO THE SAUNA HAVING BEEN RECENTLY IMPREGNATED. Really, I could see the other sauna people longing for us to return to counting the little wall tiles.
* I am a scientist.
unfashionablylost 