As know, I started working out with a personal trainer, Marbi (not his real name). You may know this because I complain about it constantly. However, the only way I trust myself to consistently work out is to pay someone to force me to do so. Enter Marbi.
This trainer tortures me regularly and I think he gets satisfaction out of it. Although, I don’t blame him because I frequently cuss at him and wish evil things upon him; like a horrible bout with diarrhea.
I had a training session tonight that was especially brutal. Although I didn’t tell him what I ate over the weekend, Marbi sensed I was less than faithful to my diet and he forced me to work out even harder than normal.
As I felt a burning sensation race through my thighs, and the familiar feeling that my leg muscles might actually rip apart, I looked for a diversion.
I looked around the gym and found my diversions. Instead of locating one distraction, I found several. At first I wondered if these people were “plants” in the gym, as it seemed some of them were typical stereotypes at any work out facility.
After further analysis, I realized these people were real and quite serious about working out. Clearly we had nothing in common. Here’s what I saw:
Creepy Moaning Guy
My eyes followed the horrific sound over to a slight man leg-pressing approximately 50 pounds of weight.
I’m not the epitome of strength, but I’m pretty sure I could rock out more than the weights this miniature man was pressing.
I was also confident I owned the same pair of shorts he was wearing. I bought them in the women’s section at Target.
As I listened to him grunt I looked around to see if anyone else noticed the inappropriate sounds coming from that corner of the gym.
It sounded like he was in the restroom after a night of eating hot wings and White Castle.
As I tried to take my mind off the ripping pain in my legs, I wondered whether he grunted and moaned at every activity he engaged in. Did he moan when he opened the car door, made his protein shake, or prepared his Hot Pocket for one?
He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which didn’t surprise me. If he made those horrific sounds while working out, one can only imagine the sounds that must emanate from him when he’s in the throes of passion.
All 3 minutes of it.
What’s strange is that no one in the gym seemed to notice his grunting. Perhaps they were all desensitized to him and his short shorts. I hoped I never grew to such complacency.
I moved my attention elsewhere, before I had a chance to grab my rape whistle and have him removed from the premises.
Inappropriate T-shirt Guy
There’s always one of these at the gym, and tonight, it was a kid who looked like he couldn’t have been more than 14 years old. I suspected his mom was waiting for him in the minivan in the parking lot.
He was scrawny and wore a shirt with an arrow pointing up that said “Mr. Right” and an arrow pointing down towards his crotch that said “Mr. All Night.”
Judging by the looks of this teen, the only thing he did all night was play Dungeons and Dragons and spank it to old episodes of Saved by the Bell.
I doubt this kid sprouted pubic hair yet, let alone a libido that would allow him to “go all night.”
I wondered if he even knew what it meant, as I suspected he never actually touched a woman up close. Maybe that’s why he was at the gym; to beef up to attract the ladies.
I wanted to tell him he should probably get a haircut and lay off the Axe body spray, but I didn’t want to be called a “poopyhead” or some other childish term, so I refrained.
The old wrinkly woman who thinks she’s hot
We’ve all seen this lady at the gym. She spends several hours a day working out, flaunting her body and fake boobs…which would look great if they weren’t covered in sun-damaged skin that looks like a shar pei.
This woman had so many wrinkles that I was sure she kept her keys and wallet secure under some of them. Yet, there she was, pounding it out on the treadmill in her short shorts and mini tank top.
I feared her workout would induce the hot flashes of menopause, but after closer examination, I realized menopause was but a sweet memory to this gal.
Although her body was definitely in great shape, her face looked like Dog The Bounty Hunter’s with all those wrinkles and sun spots.
I considered asking her to say “bro” (pronounced by Dog as “bra”) but reconsidered after realizing one of her silicon breasts could knock me out in one swift move.
The meat head lifting weights and staring at himself in the mirror
He was sporting the typical douche bag attire: a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the sides ripped to expose his sweet obliques.
He was also wearing the other requirement for this type of guy; an arrogant attitude and a smirk of pure happiness.
He was lifting a weight the “creepy moaning guy” wouldn’t even dream of lifting, all the while watching his muscles flex in the mirror.
He never took his eyes off himself in the mirror, and for a moment I wondered if he was going to walk up and caress himself softly. He seemed like the gentle type.
I was confident that’s how he treated his blow up doll at home…after all, she could easily pop with too much force.
Perhaps that was why he was so enamored with himself…he’d never known the good things in life, like Oreos and Krunchers potato chips.
He also didn’t seem to be familiar with deodorant, which is another reason I stayed away.
Fortunately these freak shows gave me the focus to get me through my torturous workout without passing out or throwing anything.
As I left the gym I wondered if any of them would go home and write a blog about the type of people they saw at the gym. If so, they would write about the chick screaming profanity at her trainer while sweating and dreaming of cookies.
At least I was easy to identify!