Open Letter to the People at My Gym
Hey guys, it's me. To most of you I'm probably "that guy". The black guy with the headphones and the smelly pink towel (it was red when I bought it dammit!). I going to buy more towels someday, I swear. My experiences at this gym have been satisfactory so far. A treadmill is always available, the wait for other machines is tolerable, and all the equipment is clean. Every day I come in and I recognize many faces. Some of them are a lot thinner than a few months ago. Others are employees who have memorized my membership number. All of you excellent individuals have one thing in common: I don't know your names.
I'm not there for conversation. I rely on my iPod and my serious-by-default facial expression to avoid distractions like human interaction. Brief questions like "How many sets do you have left?" and "Are you using that bench?" are more than adequate for communication. It would really be nice if we had some sort of system of grunts and hand signals, but what can you do. Anyway, this has all worked out well for me. I run, sweat, drink, lift, bend, and stretch for about an hour and stave off pudginess for another day. However this delicate system came crashing down yesterday when an Asian woman made the egregious mistake of speaking to me. She felt the mental mind of the man who took hostages at Hillary Clinton was worth discussing, even over the volume of my headphones.
This is completely and utterly unacceptable. I have taken extreme steps to avoid eye contact with virtually every patron of this establishment, it would be nice if I remained as invisible to them as they (essentially) are to me. I'm sure this toned woman who accosted me is nice enough and might even be somehow attracted to me, but I have things to do. Moreover, I've constructed elaborate backstories for these other people and this gym would be a lot less interesting if I learned that 40-something guy in the white tee wasn't secretly a furry and the slightly overweight woman in a turquoise tank top wasn't the only surviving one of a set of triplets that travelled with the circus.
So please leave me to my own devices. I need to get home and play Street Biomass Puzzle Quest: The Halo Galaxy Crysis Limited Edition. You don't need to pull me out of my shell. And for Pete's sake, can't you see how sweaty I am?
posted by Antonio at 1:45 PM
6 Comments:
That is actually kinda hilarious. I can relate. If you feel that way about your social environment, I think you'll be able to appreciate the humor in this clip:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xN7v4miNgc
I agree with you. I get in the zone at the gym. But more importantly, why would that woman want to talk about THAT at the gym. So odd.
the shredder - I love that clip
cheryl - I don't know. I think she was trying to make conversation and the story was something playing on the TV at the gym.
Yeah, I tend to have my own default stoic expression and behavioral habits which discourage conversation, so I immediately thought back to that DS9 scene upon reading your post. Also, trying to talk to someone through their headphones? C'mon! That should only be done if:
A) The headphone wearer speaks first.
or
B) That person is about to be hit by
a bus.
Hey - that guy! I was trying to find a way to contact you. Joe hasn't told me who has won Swag Tuesday yet and my novel Fruit Cocktail but I just wanted to personally thank you for commenting. Hope you win! HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Arthur
arthur@onpickingfruit.com
www.onpickingfruit.com
I thank the powers above that my iPod and scowl seem to repel most people at the gym. But goddam it I want to chat up so many of them when I see how poorly they're executing their exercises: They're wasting their time and energy and they're potentially hurting themselves. But alas, I keep my opinions to myself. No one wants unsolicited advice when they work out.
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