Since the old McBurney Y closed down, I go to the New York Sports Club on the corner of 8th Ave. and 23rd St. I came into the locker room the other day at about one o’clock, and there was a 
neatly dressed young man of about thirty standing in front of the mirror. He was tying his red-and-beige striped tie, obviously ready to head back to work after a lunch hour workout.
Another man came into the locker room; he was maybe in his mid-twenties, dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt, a gym bag over his shoulder. “Hey Dan, what’s going on!” he piped up heartily.
“Oh, hey Joe,” Dan said, with notably less enthusiasm, as he finished tying his tie. He seemed to have things on his mind.
Most of the guys that go to my gym are gay, and of course you never know, but these guys seemed pretty macho.
“You’re all dressed up today!” Joe observed. “Dapper Dan! That’s a Peter Pan collar you’re wearing there, ain’t it?”
“Peter Pan?!” Dan exclaimed in puzzlement. “Hell no! What the hell are you talking about?”
“Yeah, that’s what it is,” Joe said. “A Peter Pan collar. That’s what they call it when it’s rounded like that. You know, instead of pointed like a regular collar.”
I noticed then that Dan was indeed wearing a pink shirt with a rounded collar.
“Great,” Dan said, his voice tinged with disgust. “Well, I’m sure as hell not wearing it anymore if that’s what it’s called.” He had finished dressing and was gathering his things into a gym bag.
“Uh, well,” Joe stammered, “You know, I could be wrong. Come to think of it, I think that’s just what they call it when it’s a girl’s collar. For a man it’s just a, uh, rounded collar.”
Dan slung his gym bag over his shoulder and turned to go. “Too late now,” he said. “Thanks a lot. I’m throwing it out.” (Ed Hamilton)
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