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In Defense of…Not Tubbing

In Defense of…Not Tubbing

[ October 23, 2009 - 12:48pm ]
The appeal of the hot tub
Communal germs, hangovers, and overly-friendly strangers. No thanks.

I’m sure this puts me on the Debbie Downer scale somewhere between Bernie Madoff and Ben Stein, but I hate hot tubs.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not scared of swine flu or hepatitis or whatever else makes people leery of communal bathing. It takes more than sitting in a tub of stranger’s filth to gross me out.

It’s more of an emotional distaste. Sure, I know the après hot tub dip has been major part of ski culture since Roy Jacuzzi invented the whirlpool in 1968. I just don’t get the appeal, other than the fact that warm pools of chlorine and foot sweat seem to seriously curb inhibitions. Last time I was in a hot tub the kid sitting next to me promptly took his trunks off. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but if it were me, I would have at least asked my neighbors if it was OK.

There is also a direct negative correlation between how long I spend in a hot tub and how many beers I can drink before I feel like death the next morning. I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty sure the combination of dehydration and heat is bad news for your brain and your muscles. When you’re cranky and crampy on the boot pack in the morning you can blame at least some of that lethargy on the hot tub.

So, maybe it’s lame, but while everyone else is soaking I’ll be inside, probably playing Scrabble by myself. Guaranteed tomorrow morning I’ll be out the door first, without hangover, embarrassment, or herpes. That, to me, seems worth it.


-Heather Hansman




I love hot tubbing. I once


I love hot tubbing. I once spent, over the course of 5 days, a whole work day in the Cliff Lodge (Snowbird, UT) hot tub. I think I may have even earned some OT. Hot tubs are as American as apple pie and long skis. So get some work done and have a soak.

  Ewwww. sooo true.  I was

  Ewwww. sooo true.  I was sitting in a hot tub at a really nice Best Western on Catalina Island last year, next to the pool,  all to myself, when this gross, fat, hairy slob comes out the hotel, and he heads straight over to where I'm sitting, and plops himself in across from me..  No hello or nothing.  Just staring at me. Totally skeeved by this specimen, I got up and got out, and the pig immediately got up and followed me, right on my heels.  NAST.

Seriously. Taking a hot bath with strangers is the grossest thing.

I love hot tubs

I love hot tubs

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