The Gym

Well today I decided to get my flabby ass to the gym for the second time this year. That's great, considering that January is not over yet. (I can mark going to the gym two times in one month off my bucket list now. Thank god, because I thought I would never get that done.) To my surprise I found the whole of Pennsylvania packed into this little place of torment. I swear its either the damn $10.00 deal or the fact that its "judgement free." No! I remembered its everyone trying not to give up on their new year's resolution. A promise that this year I will loose all that shit I ate from 2009 to present. Then there is that little Jillian Michael's voice in the back of you head screaming "Get up fatty and get moving." Its all the positive reinforcement you need to kick of the year.
    I would lie if I said I entered with a smile on my face and skipped to the locker room spreading good will to all mankind. I was pissed off. I hate that a million people pact the nations gym's for two months until they give up, then enrollment drops back to the faithful and the "I go when I feel something jiggle." people (I am the latter encase you got hit by a two by four and lost your senses.) Its just not right. they should build a "new years gym under a tent in a random strip mall parking lot and set it up there for two months. That way these people do not have to bother the faithful and the jigglers.
   I found an open machine and went about my business. Only one heart attach this time. This is improvement! As I was Chugging along to my i Pod, I swear more people somehow packed into this tiny tinder box of of hopeless dreams of being fit.
   I did my routine and went to the weights only to be kicked off my machine by the trainer. You know the guy in the yellow shirt with a G.E.D. who walks around like he is a nutritionist full time and a real boy part time. He said " We need that SINCE we are doing circuit training." His emphasis on since. I have never wanted to punch someone in the throat more in my life. First off you have two old ladies who, lets face it are doing this because they are retired and have nothing better to do with their night then sit home and watch their husbands eat their cooking. Second, I am here a hell of a lot more then them and I pay my dues regularly. Third if any one of the three of them had said BEFORE I sat down, we are using these, I would have let it go. They waited until they used the other two machines and did a step up and down on the boxes they have in the middle of the floor. What a pretentious little dick head this "want to be" trainer was. I stared at him. He said " Circuit training. You know what that is?" I stared again. Then I said "Yep I know what it is. Do you, cuz you keep looking at the sign over there before you teach these ladies what to do?" Then I kindly got up and left me machine without wiping it down for extra affect. A sweaty bitch slap to you.
  Anyhow,I always wondered who hired these people? Do they do this because their job at Subway does not give them enough satisfaction, or do they do this because they have no life? Either way you look at it, its sad. I can imagine after a work out with these two lovely ladies he would say "Well ladies, that was a great work out. You did a fine job today. God home and feel the burn." Inside his head he would be trying, desperately, to get the image of a saggy chin and other areas, oily hair and man smell out of his head. I hoped he would go home to an empty apartment and cry tonight. That would do me justice, but then again I am cruel.
    I finished my work out and came home feeling like jello that was thrown into a fan. I cant feel my arms and my heart rate is still up despite a hot shower and a few sarcastic Facebook posts to people who deserve it and friends who can handle it. I feel as thought someone deserves a punch in the face. Is this an anger issue? Should I see someone about this? Maybe the lady who cuts my hair at the mall or the guy who throws my mail in my box and my packages against my door? Naw, they are to special a human being to unleash the inner workings of my mind on. I will save that for you, the reader, to navigate through this twisted wreckage of a mind.
  "By pass the flaming head of Reggis Philbman and keep walking toward the mountain of cake, turn left at the musical number and the go about six miles or until you come to the "pet" portion of the brain." This coming from a stewardess who is blond and French with a black, over sized mustache.
Anyhow kiddies, the moral of today's lesson is do not punch anyone in the throat and don't go to the gym where the trainers are rude and less educated then the local elementary students who say such things like "Poopy" and "Y'all." Go to a gym where people are excluded and there are open spots to actually exercise. That's a gym.