Friday, February 20, 2009
I’ve been going to gym fairly regularly for about the past 17-18 years. I’m not sure how much actual good it’s done for me, but at least mentally, I feel better for going.
Through the years, I’ve met some very interesting characters and seen some crazy things. Some of you may have seen experienced some of the same. Let’s look at a few examples.
Have you even noticed the burly power lifting guys? They’re the ones grunting and groaning while trying to lift ridiculous amounts of steel off of their chests. I swear, one time I thought someone shot a wild animal in the back of the gym! But it was just one of these primates squeezing out that last rep. On a rare occasion, one of the muscle-heads will ask me to “spot” him. I cringe when this happens, I try to act like I don’t hear him at first. When this doesn’t work, I turn into Robert DeNiro from Taxi Driver, “You talkin’ to me?” I mean it’s freggin’ frightening. I don’t want any parts of this bullshit! If this Neanderthal can’t lift this enormous amount of weight off of his chest, what makes him think that I can?
Years ago, I witnessed some steroid guys in action. They were a peculiar bunch. They would use this white chalk to help them grip the bar. They would have this shit all over the place! By the time they were done, it looked like a Pablo Escobar factory. The cleaning people definitely earned their money in that place!
To get in the mindset, these guys would smack the shit out of each other before they lifted anything. The lifter would be standing there with his eyes rolling back into his head. And he’d start shake his arms and legs in this strange rubberlike motion. His “friends” would then smack him across the face and yell motivating stuff like, “Come on, you pussy! Show me what you’ve got!!!” It was as disturbing as it was funny. As much as I wanted to laugh, I didn’t really want to get my ass kicked either.
Then, as if the poor bastard hadn’t had enough, he now had the actually lift the weight! So, he would pick it up, grunting like a wounded wildebeest, and attempt to complete his mission. The “friends” would be encouraging him by yelling things like, “Come on, you piece of shit! Is that all you got? My sister could out lift you!!” I’m watching this poor guy and thinking, “For God's sake! He’s going to f*cking kill himself! What are you guys doing???”
Afterward, these guys would congratulate each other like they had just won the Super Bowl. They’d give each other high fives as clouds of the chalk made the room appear like a smoky bar room. I wasn’t sure if I just witnessed an impressive lift or a gang initiation!
Ok, moving on, let’s tone it down a notch. God bless the senior citizens. I assume they come to the gym with good intentions. Some of them will pull themselves up onto the treadmill. Ten minutes later, they’ll fire the machine up to a speed of middle aged turtle with a bum leg. I’m not sure how much benefit they actually get out of this, but hey, at least they showed up, right?
Some of these folks will opt out on the cardio equipment altogether. Instead, they’ll congregate around one of the weight machines as if it were a corner table at a Dunkin’ Donuts. From the confused looks on the faces, it’s pretty clear that that have no idea what to do. Sometimes, I’ll offer to help them, but in their own way, they’ll tell me that they’ve got things under control.
While I was on one of the cardio machines this morning, an older gentleman plopped his big ass down on a weight machine in front of me. Sounds innocent enough, right? The problem is that his pants were obviously too low in the back and I was forced to stare into 6 inches of ass crack! Although it was only for about ten minutes, it seemed like an eternity! I felt like calling for one of the employees and saying, “Look at that bullshit. Are you guys running a family oriented gym here or what?” But I didn’t want to embarrass the fellow and I quietly absorbed the pain.
Another gripe I have deals with locker room etiquette. When I enter the locker room, I always find an unoccupied section of lockers and put my stuff in one of them. I like my privacy as most other people do. So, after my workout, I’ll change out of my workout clothes, wrap a towel around myself and head for the shower. The shower clears my head gets me ready for the day. When I’m finished, I quietly turn the corner and head back to my area. And it never f*cking fails! There will be a group of boneheads having a frat party right in front of my locker. I mean they have the whole damned room but they have to pick MY spot. Like my heap of sweaty clothes on the floor wasn’t a big enough hint for them? Maybe it’s just me but I don’t want a bunch of burly guys staring at my bare ass! In fact, I don’t want them any where near my ass! Man, this ticks me off!
KW
Through the years, I’ve met some very interesting characters and seen some crazy things. Some of you may have seen experienced some of the same. Let’s look at a few examples.
Have you even noticed the burly power lifting guys? They’re the ones grunting and groaning while trying to lift ridiculous amounts of steel off of their chests. I swear, one time I thought someone shot a wild animal in the back of the gym! But it was just one of these primates squeezing out that last rep. On a rare occasion, one of the muscle-heads will ask me to “spot” him. I cringe when this happens, I try to act like I don’t hear him at first. When this doesn’t work, I turn into Robert DeNiro from Taxi Driver, “You talkin’ to me?” I mean it’s freggin’ frightening. I don’t want any parts of this bullshit! If this Neanderthal can’t lift this enormous amount of weight off of his chest, what makes him think that I can?
Years ago, I witnessed some steroid guys in action. They were a peculiar bunch. They would use this white chalk to help them grip the bar. They would have this shit all over the place! By the time they were done, it looked like a Pablo Escobar factory. The cleaning people definitely earned their money in that place!
To get in the mindset, these guys would smack the shit out of each other before they lifted anything. The lifter would be standing there with his eyes rolling back into his head. And he’d start shake his arms and legs in this strange rubberlike motion. His “friends” would then smack him across the face and yell motivating stuff like, “Come on, you pussy! Show me what you’ve got!!!” It was as disturbing as it was funny. As much as I wanted to laugh, I didn’t really want to get my ass kicked either.
Then, as if the poor bastard hadn’t had enough, he now had the actually lift the weight! So, he would pick it up, grunting like a wounded wildebeest, and attempt to complete his mission. The “friends” would be encouraging him by yelling things like, “Come on, you piece of shit! Is that all you got? My sister could out lift you!!” I’m watching this poor guy and thinking, “For God's sake! He’s going to f*cking kill himself! What are you guys doing???”
Afterward, these guys would congratulate each other like they had just won the Super Bowl. They’d give each other high fives as clouds of the chalk made the room appear like a smoky bar room. I wasn’t sure if I just witnessed an impressive lift or a gang initiation!
Ok, moving on, let’s tone it down a notch. God bless the senior citizens. I assume they come to the gym with good intentions. Some of them will pull themselves up onto the treadmill. Ten minutes later, they’ll fire the machine up to a speed of middle aged turtle with a bum leg. I’m not sure how much benefit they actually get out of this, but hey, at least they showed up, right?
Some of these folks will opt out on the cardio equipment altogether. Instead, they’ll congregate around one of the weight machines as if it were a corner table at a Dunkin’ Donuts. From the confused looks on the faces, it’s pretty clear that that have no idea what to do. Sometimes, I’ll offer to help them, but in their own way, they’ll tell me that they’ve got things under control.
While I was on one of the cardio machines this morning, an older gentleman plopped his big ass down on a weight machine in front of me. Sounds innocent enough, right? The problem is that his pants were obviously too low in the back and I was forced to stare into 6 inches of ass crack! Although it was only for about ten minutes, it seemed like an eternity! I felt like calling for one of the employees and saying, “Look at that bullshit. Are you guys running a family oriented gym here or what?” But I didn’t want to embarrass the fellow and I quietly absorbed the pain.
Another gripe I have deals with locker room etiquette. When I enter the locker room, I always find an unoccupied section of lockers and put my stuff in one of them. I like my privacy as most other people do. So, after my workout, I’ll change out of my workout clothes, wrap a towel around myself and head for the shower. The shower clears my head gets me ready for the day. When I’m finished, I quietly turn the corner and head back to my area. And it never f*cking fails! There will be a group of boneheads having a frat party right in front of my locker. I mean they have the whole damned room but they have to pick MY spot. Like my heap of sweaty clothes on the floor wasn’t a big enough hint for them? Maybe it’s just me but I don’t want a bunch of burly guys staring at my bare ass! In fact, I don’t want them any where near my ass! Man, this ticks me off!
KW
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