07. Fruits of my labor

This last story took place about the same time as my adventure down south. It was the culmination of years of preparation. Had I not taken that first dive many years earlier, I would never have been pepared for this.

I worked for an airline a little over 1.5 years and it was the best job I ever had. I thoroughly enjoy the work, the airport, the customers, the razzle-dazzle of getting flights off on-time, and the occasional celebrity. I worked mostly 4 hour shifts in the evening 5 days a week.

The shift would start with a briefing of all who started at that hour. On-time was always stressed. If your shift started at 5:00, you had to be at the 5:00 briefing in uniform. Anything unusual that may be happening for that shift, evening assignments, and emphasis on certain procedures were discussed. Then you would proceed to your assignment.

When I first started, there was a men's locker room and a lady's locker. I can't vouch for the lady's locker room, but the men's was pretty beat up. That is where we changed into our uniform and stored our spare uniforms and our street clothes and any personal possessions during the shift. The problem was that the lockers were dirty, unreliable, and didn't "lock" and the room itself was old and dirty.

Shortly after I started, we were told they were building new locker rooms. Space is at a premium for most airlines. Not only that, but the more space you used the higher your rent. As the planning progressed, the plan was changed from locker rooms to using some empty space for one large locker room. It was to be used by everybody to store there clothing (and possessions), but since most of the employees were female, the women would also dress there. The men would have to retrieve there uniforms and store their street clothes in the new locker room, but still dress in the old locker room.

After many months of planning and building, the new locker room was opened. It did not take, but a couple of days to see that the logistics of men retrieving and storing there stuff in the new locker room and dressing in the old locker room was unworkable, and was causing people to be late for briefings or it delayed briefings, especially in the evening when people were showing up a few minutes before briefing, couldn't get into the locker room because women were still dressing, etc. It was mild chaos.

So some of the employees (the women) took matters into their own hands. Some of them suggested to us men to just get dressed in the new locker room, after all who cared - it had to be done quickly so nobody would be late. Well, that's all I needed to hear.

At first, I was very polite. Upon entering the locker room I would announce "Does anybody object to me coming in!" After several days, I would just go in. My locker was at the very back of the room located between two women. One of the women usually worked a day shift; so I didn't see her very much. The other was a cute young woman. So at first, I would make sure I didn't look at her or anyone else in the general area as we all undressed and dressed. The whole process was quick anyway. After several days of this, we would be talking and joking like we were buddies; I never stared or ogled, but I also didn't feel a need to look away like in the beginning.

After a month or so, somebody complained to management and the men were told not to dress there anymore and once again the on-time ethos devolved into mild chaos. This ban lasted about two days. I don't know if anybody spoke unofficially to whoever complained or whether this person(s) just decided to arrive earlier and get dressed before the men arrived, but things settled back into a coed changing room.

In short, I got a mild kick out of undressing in front of other women and secretly I think some of them like undressing in front of me.

There were a few instances that were particularly nice. These all happened in the warmer weather.

One Saturday evening I had only a polo shirt for a top when I arrived (no T shirt). I didn't think anything of it until I took my shirt and jeans off and realized I was standing beside my cute young neighbor wearing ony my white bikini underpants. Again, the thrill only lasted a few seconds because I didn't want to be late for the briefing.

Another time, I had come right from the beach. I had to take off my bathing suit and put on a spare pair of underpants, T-shirt and socks that I kept in the locker in case of emergency. Unfortunately, nobody was around as I did this. I was never able to duplicate this situation because none of this was ever done intentionally or planned.

One other time, my cute neighbor was getting undressed. As she took her blouse off, she had no bra on. That was very nice, but again very nonchalant.

So, for about a year, I had a few moments most days acting out my life-long quest for naturalness in a very mild way. I have to admit it was one other aspect of the job that made it the best job of my life.