Tales From the Gym
I headed back to the gym today after about a week off. I know, I know. I’m a slacker. I’ve been blaming it on my allergies, which (in my defense) have been really bad. Anyway, Snookums finally kicked my ass out the door today for another round of physical misery.
- My nemesis was on the treadmill when I entered. She’s this tiny tiny girl with seventh-grade hair. I mean, she has hair that I would’ve killed for in seventh grade: long red spiral hair pulled back in a barrette, complete with pouffy bangs. I hate her. And get this – she doesn’t put it up in a ponytail or anything! She just leaves it down. What’s worse, she does nothing but run. She runs for, like, hours, in this ridiculously flouncy fashion, as if she weighed nothing at all but just liked to see her masses of hair bounce. Can you tell I’m gritting my teeth just thinking about her?
- Another big irrition: inappropriate male fashion choices. Today’s victim apparently thought he was Craig David or something. He was wearing orange 3/4-length pants, a tight black shirt, and an orange knit cap. Like, the kind you wear skiing. At the friggin’ gym. Whatever.
- The new attendant is really friendly. Too friendly. He started talking to me while I was working on the inner thigh machine. *shudder*
I’m slowly realizing that the money I spent on the gym membership might have been put to better use towards a treadmill for home. Other people annoy me too much.