While sauna-ing one night in 2005, hoping to unwind off-duty, writer spotted a roving young sexual predator who'd years earlier been banned for life. He'd just begun molesting a fellow off-duty female employee alone in sauna at night before someone came in and he aborted efforts; he was nearly arrested. Ages had passed since the incident. With all-new workers and managers, no one recognized him -- except me, of course, being a springs dinosaur. I shifted gears in a heartbeat. Managers were by then gone for day, so, only the recourse was to alert the office.

Alas, at moment it was run by man with a long history of sticky-finger proclivities who would soon get caught and imprisoned for plying his shadowy trade at Stewart's. Earlier I'd cautioned co-manager Astra from keeping him the second I learned he'd been hired, but to no avail. As scrambling newbie managers, they were hard-pressed for help -- any help -- at the start of a super-busy peak season that would often completely overwhelm them.

Indifferent to what might prove a notorious incident giving  the Springs a black eye, he acted as if there was no problem at all, saying dismissively, "Hey, he paid his admission." Bit then he hatched a diabolically clever revenge plan on me, as earlier he'd learned how I'd blown the whistle on him once manager confronted him with sticky-fingers allegation (they didn't see fit to protect my anonymity). He'd acted all chagrined, humbly professed to have mended his ways, become a better person, ad naseum.

Now, totally ignoring the red alert of a banned sexual predator on the loose around vulnerable nude patrons, he instead fabricated his OWN red alert, delivered to manager later that night after I'd gone, of receiving a heated desk complaint of ME egregiously misbehaving in the sauna.