I have a gay guy/straight guy litmus test for you: Are straight guys, just by the nature of their sexual identity, more comfortable being naked around each other in the locker room?
The back story: A new friend invited me to work out with him at his gym. Not a pick up line, just a nice offer. Working out with him would have been unusual for me but fun. . . until it dawned on me that logistics of getting to the movie or wherever we were going after meant there'd only be enough time to shower and change at the gym. No time to go home in between. Even with a large locker room, that pretty much meant we'd be naked at the same time and place. I declined. I just prefer to avoid seeing my friends while either of us is naked.
I confessed my neuroses to another friend, and he wasn't surprised that I had tip-toed to avoid the locker room. He doesn't like seeing friends naked either; he thinks that most gay men avoid it.
In a short and entirely unscientific study, I scanned the contacts in my cell phone. I've only seen two of the men naked -- just two out of 18. One, I'd seen in locker room, the other I'd dated for a few weeks. I've know guys for more than a decade, even lived with for three years with one of them, and couldn't tell you a thing about their dick and ass shots.
My dinner companion said something to the effect that, "Straight men don't care about being naked with each other. They are completely comfortable with it."
So, SG, that's my question to you. But, before you tell me if straight men indeed are comfortable hanging out sans clothes in the locker room, I want to jump in to say that I don't think you guys are.
My survey of the naked-locker-room-gay-guy-experience is that there are guys who like to look, and guys who don't mind being looked at; slow-dressing yackers; and the rest of us. As long as those who look and show find each other, that's fine. The endless talkers probably talk with oblivion through and over any and all of life's experiences. The rest of us are neither really comfortable nor uncomfortable, just drawing some kind of imaginary curtain and trying to get done.
I'm not hobbled by the locker room. I just keep it efficient. My equilibrium is in place until I see someone I know or someone I think is attractive. Then I become a spaz. This happens out on the gym floor, so it's not totally a function of towels.