Damn New Year's Resolution people! They're all over the gym, climbing on the treadmills, spreading weights around the floor, turning the fucking TV sets to Oprah, kicking the exercise balls around like big, heavy beach balls, and hogging more space than they have a right to.
What is up with the tall, skinny black guy acting like he owns the fucking place when he just got here and obviously, OH SO OBVIOUSLY, has no clue what the hell he's doing?! First this dumbass was in the locker room in front of the sinks all spread out and taking up all the space.
"Excuse me, I need to use one of the many sinks you seem to be blocking, but not using. Do you mind?" Dumbass ignored me. "Excuse me. Hey, dumbass!" No response. He is apparently retarded. I did what I had to do and left MC Hammer all spread out all over the floor in the bathroom like a bathmat. Perhaps that will be the last I see of this moron, seeing as he appears to be stretching and therefore must be done working out?
But nooooooooooooo!
Mr Hammer seemed to follow me all over the gym, spreading his skinny black ass as wide as possible to make sure everyone knew his very unimportant self was there while he stood in everyone's way and piddled with all the weights. I took the ones I needed, all the ones I wanted, and carried them to my bench. He tried as best he could to crowd me, so I just kept on lifting. If I hit him with my weights I am not going to worry about it. Get the fuck off me, you stupid moron who will probably never come to the gym again after today because you're just so much bluff and absolutely no stuff.
Young hot girls, young hot mothers, not-so-hot women of various ages, various teenage boys and middle-aged men, and some really, really fat kids were everywhere. The normally almost empty row of treadmills was full. Everyone's favorite ab machine was constantly in use by hot girls whom I will miss when they don't come back. I did a new workout, an improvised as I go workout, using whatever equipment was available. I'm glad so few people like working their abs on the exercise balls and that there are so many of them. Even with the kids playing soccer I was always able to get one, even if it was a different sized one each time. Hey, I can mark that down as muscle confusion, right?
I worked out as long as I could before I started to get that "gonna puke or pass out" feeling. That meant it was time to hit the treadmill. I had already observed that Oprah was on one of the TV sets, so I made a desperate attempt to get a treadmill as far from that TV as possible. I got lucky. I got one right in front of the Venus Williams/Tszvetana Pironkova Australian Open tennis match. Ah, this is more like it. No Oprah whiney assed "bitch/ho" cry me a river shit. Just two athletic women sweating and chasing a little yellow ball around a court for hours. The only time an athlete whines is when they're frustrated with their own performance. Or the refs suck. But in this match apparently they were only frustrated with themselves close to the end. And who could blame them? They were playing it right down to the wire and they were both really tired. And wet. Really wet. Their clothes were sticking to their bodies like a wet T-shirt contest. And there I was running that treadmill like if I just ran fast enough I might catch one of them. 5 miles I ran after those girls. Never did catch anyone, but I got a good workout.
Some poor guy named Charles Casey or something pulled his stuff out of his locker, but dropped his wallet. I picked it up and looked at his driver's license. He was nowhere in sight, so I took it to the front desk.
Yeah, yeah, I know I could have kept it. But how annoying is it to lose your wallet and license and all that and have someone just pick it up and keep it? Anyway, the girl at the front desk, who was pretty cute I might add for no reason at all, said she knew who he was and where he was. She said he had just gone into the basketball courts and was playing. She promised to give it to him.
When I left it had started to rain. That was fine seeing as I was as soaked with sweat as both Venus and Tszvetana combined by the time I left. A little rain wasn't going to hurt me. It might even make me stink less.
The windows all fogged up as soon as I got in the truck. The wipers were complaining that it wasn't raining quite hard enough. They were going "EEEEK EEEEK EEEEK" the way they do. When I got home I backed my truck into the driveway, cursing myself as I got it crooked twice in a row.
I swear I was a better driver back in high school than I am now. Then again, I've been really clumsy all day long. I think I may have an ear infection.
All that pumping iron and running and when I went to shower and looked in the mirror what did I see? A buff pumped up muscle man? No, I looked as shitty as ever. What is it all for?
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