Like all those socks that get lost in the dryer, 3,000 towels disappear from Columbia Association gyms every month.
That stolen terrycloth, along with the hefty cost of running a laundry, has the homeowners association thinking about dropping towel service at its three health clubs, a perk that costs about $230,000 a year.
But taking gym towels away from Columbians is proving to be as tough as separating Peanuts' Linus from his security blanket.
Hundreds of cards, letters and e-mails have poured in, to protest the plan. "Towelgate" has emerged as the hottest political topic in town.
"I think it's the stupidest thing they would ever do," said Brad Snyder, 40, of River Hill who uses towels at The Columbia Gym every day. "To me, it would be just mind-boggling. It's like not having chairs at the pool."
The Columbia Association is braving such ire because of increasing pressure to tighten its belt. Eliminating towel service would save $2.5 million over 10 years, when interest is factored in, said Rob Goldman, the CA's vice president for sport and fitness.
But in Columbia, a planned community where folks don't take lifestyle lightly, a BYOT health club feels terribly wrong to many.
Towels came up again and again at a recent series of town meetings where residents were asked to envision Columbia 30 years from now. Many couldn't see past their next shower.
"It comes up everywhere," Goldman said. "Every meeting, somebody brings it up."
The current uproar doesn't come as a complete surprise. Goldman said he knew the idea of dropping the service would meet a chilly reception when he first proposed it in October.
Even so, he thought it was worth considering because of the potential savings. In an early straw vote, the council narrowly agreed. But since then, support has slipped. Now it seems likely that the council will pay for more towels when it approves the final budget in late February.
Even Goldman is ready to throw in the terrycloth, saying he'll be glad to continue providing towels if that's what the council wants.
Each year, between the three health clubs, Goldman said, towel service costs $78,000 in labor, $24,000 in detergent, $65,000 in utilities and $51,000 to replace worn or stolen towels.
Then there's the washer and dryer breakdowns, which come often enough to make the lonely Maytag repairman disconnect his phone. the CA spends $13,000 a year on repairs.
That figure does not include the cost of replacing the CA's 23 industrial- and regular-sized machines, which cost up to $6,000 apiece and conk out every couple of years. The Columbia Gym alone burns out five or six ordinary Maytag washers a year, at $700 a pop.
On top of that, is the cost of laundry staff.
"At the Supreme Sports Club, we have people who are hired to work in the laundry. That's all they do," Goldman said. "Those washers run 23, 24 hours a day. People are handling towels around the clock."
One of them is Segismond Cameron, 68. While weightlifters have pumped iron and swimmers have done laps at the Supreme Sports Club, he's slogged through his own grueling routine: Wash, dry, fold. Wash, dry, fold. Eight hours a day. Five days a week. For 20 years.
Half Cal Ripken Jr., half Heloise, this Iron Man of laundry works with a gallon bottle of lotion nearby to keep the hot towels from drying out his hands.
Pro-towel Councilman Miles Coffman of Hickory Ridge questions whether the CA would realize the savings Goldman predicts, particularly the labor costs. Would the laundry staff actually be cut, Coffman asks, or just redeployed to clean exercise equipment that patrons now wipe down with their CA-issued towels?
"I think it's just a hygiene issue," Coffman said. "I will bet you more towels are used to wipe down the machines than to take showers with."
Area YMCAs provide paper towels and bottles of spray cleaner to keep equipment clean.
Even before costs became an issue, Columbia's towel politics were as complicated as the town's tangled cul-de-sac layout.
The gyms hand out two grades: slightly scruffy white ones, between the size of a hand towel and bath towel, for ordinary members; and large, fluffy, cream-colored ones for those who shell out for a pricier membership. Special identification is required to get the fluffy towels.
Julie Harman, 24, of Clarksville, admits to a little towel envy when she spots the deluxe ones in the locker room. But the prospect of losing the little white ones she uses sparks high anxiety.
But Kerry Garofano, a Montgomery County physical education teacher who works out at The Columbia Gym, finds the panic funny.
"It's a towel, for crying out loud," said Garofano, 53, of Owen Brown. "Good grief. Who would have thought not having towels would have such an impact on people?"
Still, Garofano likes the luxury. "It's a nice thing to have," she said. "There's no doubt about it."
