People are crazy and times are strange
There are weirdos every where you go, but since my current life experiences are my house and the gym, I have been noticing the idiosynchrasies of the people who populate my gym pretty closely, because they are the only people I ever see.
The always naked guy -- Yuk. This guy gets out of the shower and parades around the locker room like it was Europe. He bends over too much, it takes him a little too long to dry his crotch area, and he is always dressing directly next to me. Extra points if he has an erection.
The really vocal guy -- He is really into his workout. Moaning like he's trying to win an Adult Video News award, you are not sure whether to go and help him or immediately run out of the building. Gets real good when he has a spotter who is giving him loud encouragement.
The gigantic guy -- A staple of every gym. Unable to wear clothes that fit, there are no words in the English language to describe the tightness of his shirt, which is usually some sort of speedo product. Watches Pumping Iron nightly.
The gigantic woman -- A sight to see. She no longer has breasts; they have made the Samsa like metamorphosis to pectoral muscles, and she could easily sub in on American Gladiators. Somehow is able to make every man and woman in the gym feel totally inadequate at the same time.
The scantily clad 20 year old girl -- And away we go! So incredibly distracting, it should be made illegal. You try your hardest (no pun intended) to look away while you're actually trying to figure out the best angle of the mirrors to catch a glimpse of her thong. Sets you back a day in your routine.
The scantily clad 45 year old woman -- Hilarious. She is dressed in spandex pants which half cover the enormous butterfly tattoo on her back and a crop top that is struggling to contain her gigantic breast implants. Flirting with all the men in the gym and constantly making eye contact with you, you feign disgust while you are actually trying to figure out the best angle of the mirrors to catch a glimpse of her thong. Sets you back two days in your routine.
The insanely and surprisingly strong guy -- This works better if you're in a hometown gym and this guy is either a former teacher, notable member of the community, or parent of someone you grew up with. He alternates between curling the weight rack and bench pressing the treadmill. Sure fire way to suddenly become frightened of someone you've known your entire life.
The way over his head guy -- He's sweating profusely and and pestering the trainers. Typically clad in Kareem Abdul Jabbar style glasses, an oversized corporate T shirt featuring the logo of a 10k run that he did not participate in, grey shorts, and white socks pulled up to his navel. Usually named Martin or Sam.
The pretty boy -- Oiled up and ready to rock! Dressed in his black tank top, which later on in the evening he will wear to the latest hot spot on Gansevoort Street, this guy stares at the mirror more than Derek Zoolander. Spends at least 20 minutes in the tanning booth and keeps a secret stash of Dep on his weight belt.
The guy in jeans -- Wearing blue jeans, a polo shirt and loafers, this guy is so important that he can't spare the 90 seconds it takes to change into shorts. This one actually inexplicably infuriates me.
The steroids guy -- This guy usually hangs out with other juiceheards in the corner, comparing shrunken genitalia and popping each other's pimples. Often overheard saying: "Oh, it just takes a lot of hard work." Can easily morph into the really vocal guy. Runs the risk of one of his veins popping out of his arm and garroting him to death.
My gym has possibly a unique character, but with the advent of the Ipod, this species will soon spread. That's right, the Way too into his music guy. He's grooving like he's at a tryout for Soul Train, gesticulating and swaying like Elaine Benes and Carlton Banks rolled into one. Always sitting on the bike next to me.
Coming soon: Dynamic of a pickup basketball game
The always naked guy -- Yuk. This guy gets out of the shower and parades around the locker room like it was Europe. He bends over too much, it takes him a little too long to dry his crotch area, and he is always dressing directly next to me. Extra points if he has an erection.
The really vocal guy -- He is really into his workout. Moaning like he's trying to win an Adult Video News award, you are not sure whether to go and help him or immediately run out of the building. Gets real good when he has a spotter who is giving him loud encouragement.
The gigantic guy -- A staple of every gym. Unable to wear clothes that fit, there are no words in the English language to describe the tightness of his shirt, which is usually some sort of speedo product. Watches Pumping Iron nightly.
The gigantic woman -- A sight to see. She no longer has breasts; they have made the Samsa like metamorphosis to pectoral muscles, and she could easily sub in on American Gladiators. Somehow is able to make every man and woman in the gym feel totally inadequate at the same time.
The scantily clad 20 year old girl -- And away we go! So incredibly distracting, it should be made illegal. You try your hardest (no pun intended) to look away while you're actually trying to figure out the best angle of the mirrors to catch a glimpse of her thong. Sets you back a day in your routine.
The scantily clad 45 year old woman -- Hilarious. She is dressed in spandex pants which half cover the enormous butterfly tattoo on her back and a crop top that is struggling to contain her gigantic breast implants. Flirting with all the men in the gym and constantly making eye contact with you, you feign disgust while you are actually trying to figure out the best angle of the mirrors to catch a glimpse of her thong. Sets you back two days in your routine.
The insanely and surprisingly strong guy -- This works better if you're in a hometown gym and this guy is either a former teacher, notable member of the community, or parent of someone you grew up with. He alternates between curling the weight rack and bench pressing the treadmill. Sure fire way to suddenly become frightened of someone you've known your entire life.
The way over his head guy -- He's sweating profusely and and pestering the trainers. Typically clad in Kareem Abdul Jabbar style glasses, an oversized corporate T shirt featuring the logo of a 10k run that he did not participate in, grey shorts, and white socks pulled up to his navel. Usually named Martin or Sam.
The pretty boy -- Oiled up and ready to rock! Dressed in his black tank top, which later on in the evening he will wear to the latest hot spot on Gansevoort Street, this guy stares at the mirror more than Derek Zoolander. Spends at least 20 minutes in the tanning booth and keeps a secret stash of Dep on his weight belt.
The guy in jeans -- Wearing blue jeans, a polo shirt and loafers, this guy is so important that he can't spare the 90 seconds it takes to change into shorts. This one actually inexplicably infuriates me.
The steroids guy -- This guy usually hangs out with other juiceheards in the corner, comparing shrunken genitalia and popping each other's pimples. Often overheard saying: "Oh, it just takes a lot of hard work." Can easily morph into the really vocal guy. Runs the risk of one of his veins popping out of his arm and garroting him to death.
My gym has possibly a unique character, but with the advent of the Ipod, this species will soon spread. That's right, the Way too into his music guy. He's grooving like he's at a tryout for Soul Train, gesticulating and swaying like Elaine Benes and Carlton Banks rolled into one. Always sitting on the bike next to me.
Coming soon: Dynamic of a pickup basketball game
posted by quint at 8:42 PM
1 Comments:
Thank you for returning all of those images I've worked so desperately hard to block from my mind....ah HoJo.
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