Health club follies
There’s a pretty girl who works out in my gym. She works out hard and she’s not quiet about it. Whenever she lifts a heavy weight or tries to stand with an iron bar resting across her shoulders or tightens her abs on one of the many torture devices, she makes little sounds.
Ungh. Ungh. Ungh.
The sound is born from her battle against gravity, but if you close your eyes (as I often do) it sounds like something else.
Ungh. Ungh. Ungh.
Sometimes, if I’m feeling a bit blue and I'm hating the gym, I’ll quickly revamp my routine so that I workout in close proximity to her. It lifts my spirits.
Tell me ladies, do you guys hack and clear your sinuses while in the shower? The PUBLIC shower? You can’t imagine how many times I have to listen to some slob expel while showering. CCCkkkkggghhhkkk. Ptu. And after that, each sinus. It's sickening. What is wrong with men?
Look, buddy, I don’t mind chatting in the locker room. I talk a pretty good game and I can fake like I know a thing or two about the equity markets or the intricacies of turning a double play. But for CHRIST'S SAKE, either wrap a towel around yourself or put some underwear on. Don’t stand there and chat with your pathetic Johnson hanging out. It makes me sick.
People who text while sitting on the equipment during peak hours deserve to have a 30 pound plate dropped on their testicles/ovaries. Leave your goddamn cell phone in your locker. Idiots.
Ungh. Ungh. Ungh.
The sound is born from her battle against gravity, but if you close your eyes (as I often do) it sounds like something else.
Ungh. Ungh. Ungh.
Sometimes, if I’m feeling a bit blue and I'm hating the gym, I’ll quickly revamp my routine so that I workout in close proximity to her. It lifts my spirits.
* * *
Tell me ladies, do you guys hack and clear your sinuses while in the shower? The PUBLIC shower? You can’t imagine how many times I have to listen to some slob expel while showering. CCCkkkkggghhhkkk. Ptu. And after that, each sinus. It's sickening. What is wrong with men?
* * *
Look, buddy, I don’t mind chatting in the locker room. I talk a pretty good game and I can fake like I know a thing or two about the equity markets or the intricacies of turning a double play. But for CHRIST'S SAKE, either wrap a towel around yourself or put some underwear on. Don’t stand there and chat with your pathetic Johnson hanging out. It makes me sick.
* * *
People who text while sitting on the equipment during peak hours deserve to have a 30 pound plate dropped on their testicles/ovaries. Leave your goddamn cell phone in your locker. Idiots.
posted by The Unbearable Banishment at
10:50 PM
9 Comments:
It lifts my spirits.
That's what you New Yorkers call it, then?
Your Johnson scene reminds me of the locker room scene from "Run Fatboy Run" with Simon Pegg and Hank Azaria.
Now that you've vented, I bet you feel better. Right?
Rob: Ha. I didn't get the metaphor until you pointed it out. You're the clever one.
"Run Fatboy" = watch David Schwimmer waste Simon Pegg's talent.
And, yes, I feel tons better. But I know that old, familiar feeling will be back. Soon.
No sinus passage cleansing that I've noticed. But we ladies do other annoying things. One lady 'reserves' counter space in a crowded ladies room by putting her stuff on the counter as soon as she gets to the gym.
I ranted about it once.
yet another set of reasons why i don't go to the gym anymore, sugar! xox
i have no idea why, but this post makes me MISS going to the gym. and it's not for all the penises... contrary to the rumors, i use the ladies locker room...
Is it me, or are the kind of people who frequent these new fangled gym's only there for the sake of bragging rights?
I stopped going for a while when I couldn't stand the eejits around me in designer gear, and phones strung around their necks whilst failing to lift over 50lbs in weight.
I train 3 times a week whenever I'm not working, and believe me, the last thing I want is an arsehole chatting on the phone next to me when the testosterone is really kicking in.
Instead of pitiful johnsons, I get to see deflated boobs hanging to her owner's waist. Fun.
Elle: While rude, that seems a lot more dignified than gobbing in the shower.
Savannah: My reason for going to the gym is a lethal combination of guilt and vanity.
Daisy: Yea, but you WANT to use the men's locker room, don't you?
Jimmy: There's a big difference between a gym and a health club. Gleason's Gym in Brooklyn don't put up with any bullshit. Work out. Get out.
Cat: What a horror show we all are when naked.
I don't get the whole phones in gyms thing. When I go to the gym, it's an excuse to lock my phone away and not look at / answer it.
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