Your Guide to A-Holes at the Gym

16 Apr
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Hot stuff, eh?

So I have hereby decided there will be a guaranteed post every Sunday and anything else is a special occasion blog (or in other words, a bored out of my mind blog – this will most likely never occur because when I’m indeed bored out of my mind I have a tendency to prefer TV and movies to blogging).  I’m aware that it’s no longer Sunday, but my intentions were good.  Anywho, moving along to the blog of the week. Or rather for those of you who have realized my true intentions, the rant of the week.  Enjoy!

In the last month I have become quite the gym rat.  I’m still not completely sure I can even call it that, since I’ve only been going for a month and about three days a week.  But I’m pretty proud of my discipline so I’m going to go on calling myself a gym rat. I’m now like those Jersey kids but without the tanning and the laundry…and the Ed Hardy.  In fact, I’ve already added ‘Certified Gym Rat’ to my resume. BAM!

So being a gym rat means I have spent a fair share of time at my local gym gearing up for the gun show and preparing for the zombie apocalypse.  During said time, I’ve learned quite a few things;

a) I would die first if I were in the Hunger Games  

b) However, I could definitely take a zombie  

 

c) I found out where all the jackasses hang out

I don’t think I need to further explain myself concerning The Hunger Games.  I’m not going to lie to you, I wouldn’t even be interested in participating in anything promoting hunger.  For Pete’s sake, I carry snacks in my bag in case the zombie apocalypse happens while I’m out and every grocery store is raided before I get the chance…and then I die a sad, lonely death from starvation.  Eating my own limbs is NOT an option!  So yes, hunger doesn’t appeal to me.  And then of course there’s the whole exercise thing. Let’s just say I always imagined myself as an ass kicking Katniss before heading to the gym, now I know I’d be the moron who runs off towards the cornucopia before the games have even begun, being blown to smithereens.  Suzanne Collins didn’t even write that character in because the moron is never inspiring.

As for taking on a zombie; I watch The Walking Dead so I’m pretty confident in my zombie knowledge, and based on my weight lifting ability…let’s just say, I’m not scared of a few zombies.  But I’m terrified of starving to death.

What I’d like to explain is where all the jackasses hide out.  It’s called the gym.  In the last month I have had far too many run-ins with my fellow gym rats.  Wait, you know what?! They don’t even deserve the gym rat title! They’re just nobodies who show up at the gym..and they are extremely rude!

In order to use the cardio machines you have to sign up on a clip board by the machine and then wait until your time slot is up.  On several occasions when I get to my allocated machine at the allocated time there’s some nobody-who-just-shows-up-at-the-gym on my treadmill/elliptical.  I usually let it go because I’ve only just arrived at the machine, so they must be finishing up or have not yet realized it’s my turn.  I give this approximately two minutes, at which point I then say to them “Excuse me, it’s my turn now. Look it’s – insert allocated time here -“.  The nobody-who-just-shows-up-at-the-gym replies with either

a) “five/ten/*insert another amount of time minutes left” or  

b) they just pretend I’m non-existent or  

c) they pretend they can’t speak English – this seems most popular after first answering with A and proving their English speaking ability.  How dumb do you think I am? 

At this point all of the previous typical responses are invalid to why I’m telling them to get off of my machine.  “It doesn’t matter how much longer you have left, it depends on who’s signed up on the sheet” *insert strong assertive pointing.  This is when ignoring me comes into play, and they just keep on running on my machine.

Most of the time the people this seems to happen with are older than I, generally 20 or 3o years older.  And being the kind, gentle person I am I can’t convince myself to do what I would do if the person were 20 and fit (pull the stop plug and have them fall on their high&mighty ass).  So instead I calmly (I’m actually steaming mad, especially since most of the gym has seen my embarrassing loss and probably no longer regard me at a gym rat level) wait until their five/ten/*insert amount of time minutes are up.

Finally when the jackass gets off my machine, I calmly, but while maintaining a loud and assertive tone so I can earn back my gym rat cred say “THAT was EXTREMELY rude.”  I don’t name call or get vicious.  Just a simple stare down and some words that will hopefully take them off their high horse.  If I’m really pissed I have previously quoted Ice Cube’s “you better check yo self, before you wreck yo self”.  That taught him; you know who you are.

Finally, I have been such a burden to the people using MY machine during MY allocated time slot that they think they can just take off without wiping their gross sweat off of the machine.  I can tell they’re thinking “shows her”, like it’s my fault they’re a jackass who doesn’t understand the system.

So in this situation, I have a typical gym jackass walking away after wasting my time and leaving my machine drenched in their sweat. This is when as loud as possible so every gym jackass knows they best be checking

And the award goes to YOU, machine stealing dude.

themselves before dealing with me, I say “AND YOU BETTER WIPE YOUR GROSS SWEAT OFF OF THE MACHINE”! Ladies and gentleman, THAT is how you deal with a jackass.

After dealing with said jackass, I now have the respect of all the other gym rats. In fact, I once had the body building type admit to me after witnessing the incident that he was scared.  I make body builders scared; this is probably something I should mention on my resume. Skills: Gym Rat and Frightening to Body Builders.   

There are actually two types of jackasses at the gym.  The jackasses I just discussed are of the machine stealing variety.  However, there is another breed, a more obnoxious one.  This breed is known as the d-bag jackass.  I haven’t done my research but I believe this particular breed originated in the Jersey Shore.

Luck for you, I have a fantastic example of the d-bag jackass in action.  One day while working on my triceps/biceps or whatever I noticed a guy watching.  This is typical gym behavior, but I could tell he wasn’t like the older men who casually walk around the gym watching girls run.  He was watching me because he was intimidated.  You say impressed, I say tomato.  Anyway, he was intimidated because I’m like the freaking hulk.  This isn’t my ego speaking, after carrying around small children all day I can lift quite a bit (at least for a girl who didn’t really pump metal till a month ago).  So after I finish lifting an impressive amount, this guy comes over and uses the machine after me.  He starts out by changing the setting to an obscene

My mistake, maybe the d-bag jackass originated at Globo Gym and not the shore..

amount and with shaky arms barely lifting it.  He holds it there for what seems like a lifetime and then follows through with 2 more pathetic attempts before heading to another machine.

What makes him a d-bag gym jackass isn’t because he wasn’t strong enough to lift those weights, but that he felt he had to prove to himself and to me that he was much stronger than a girl.  And let’s be honest, doing one set of 3 reps isn’t impressive buddy. You can pick these guys out because they only do the weight lifting and walk around in bicep flattering shirts.  Oh, and also they like to make loud grunting noises while working out. Because nothing says manly man like primate sounding grunts.  While, in all fairness I suppose that’s how the neanderthals won over their wives…

While the d-bag gym jackass is obnoxious and annoying, at least he provides a few good laughs.  The machine stealing jackasses are vicious and rude, and quite frankly I’m waiting for the chance to pull the stop plug and see one fall on his or her ass.

I could go on and on about my gym encounters. I’ve briefly mentioned the older men who people watch there – which, I shouldn’t have to tell you is inappropriate; that’s like people watching at the pool, but at least people swimming are clean and don’t smell. If you’re people watching at the gym, you don’t love yourself – and I suppose they would be a ‘jackass’ breed of their own.  Though, I haven’t looked into it.  But I’ve already written a bloody essay and if I write any more we’ll be here all day.  Don’t be mad about all of the excessive writing, be glad I stopped here.

I’m sure there are gym jackasses every where, if anyone knows of another breed or has any stories let me know. Thanks for reading!

Have a great Tuesday!

 

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