“You know what they say, never waste a Friday night on a first date”. Chappell Roan’s lyrics blasted through my headphones as I hopped off the Oxford tube at Marble Arch. Except it wasn’t a Friday night and I was not going on a first date. I was walking to Sweatbox Sauna, a gay sauna in Central London. But I was trying, terribly, to be a super graphic ultra-modern girlie like her, and I needed some inspiration as I began my walk of shame/empowerment. 

At this point, many of you may question why I decided to visit such an establishment. And, to be completely honest, I have also repeatedly asked myself the same question. 

One defence that I have deployed in retrospect is that we’re only “young once”. I imagine almost everyone has wrestled with the complex emotions surrounding aging out of adolescence and into young adulthood. For many, being at uni remains our last attempt to do something silly and live a little while we still feel able to do so. However, I will admit that this excuse does not hold water. I am a firm believer–though I have none of the necessary life experience to justify this assertion–that one can have fun at any age. Moreover, I am a meticulous overthinker (to a fault) and I can admit that I have never done something “for the plot”. Nonetheless, I challenged myself by walking into the gay sauna with no regrets. And I still don’t regret it today.  

At the door, a man let me into the sauna, checking my ID only when I asked about the youth discount (which applies to those aged 18-25, for anyone interested). I was given a key to my locker and a towel. At the sauna, I promptly undressed and wrapped my towel haphazardly around my waist (praying that it would not accidentally fall off!). However, after all, the experience itself was quite anticlimactic. I actually never entered the ‘sauna’ bit of the gay sauna. Instead I braved the Jacuzzi, because which Oxford student doesn’t deserve a spa day? Meanwhile, I ignored the 50-ish year old man who looked at me while adjusting his towel. Bumping into (and subsequently hearing) two people engaging in public displays of very strong affection put me off exploring any other part of the sauna. 

Truthfully, I decided to enter a gay sauna because I heard a 60 year old man mention visiting them in his youth on a podcast. Plus, I needed a major confidence boost. While I was proudly ‘out’ and I had enjoyed my first year of university I remained a dreaded ‘virgin’: the worst thing I thought a man could be at the time. Going to a gay sauna seemed like the only (if slightly drastic) solution. I determined that if I was destined to remain a virgin, I would be a virgin with a very funny story. On reflection, “we’re only young once” sounds like a better reason to visit a gay sauna. I don’t think I will go there again. But maybe I will.