Strange People at The Gym

I forced myself to go to the gym this morning. Man am I out of weights shape. However, I was much better than last week, even though I couldn’t breathe because my lungs were full of pollen. We had ice cream over the weekend but I’m still dropping lbs. I don’t know what the medical community is talking about. Bulimia works just fine. It’s not good for my breath, but I’m not a close talker anyway so it doesn’t matter. My lifting routine went without incident, which is good. There was an incident of stupidity that I would have found offensive if it had happened to me. The treadmill next to mine was broken. There were no lights flashing PRECOR and none of the buttons were responsive. These are two pretty big hints the thing is on the fritz. A little kid tried it first and discovered that it was broken. He moved on to something else without having an aneurysm burst. About two minutes later a woman got on the broken machine and another woman on the treadmill next to the broken one was nice enough to let the first woman know that it was busted. The first woman acted like she was being lied to. She pressed every button on the machine at least twice. Cops have more faith in the answers drunk teenagers give them at 3 a.m. on Friday night.

Cop: How many beers have you had?
Teen: Two (more constant than the law of gravity)
Cop: Can you show me some ID?
Teen: I didn’t drive. I must have left it at home
Cop: Okay, how old are you?
Teen: Twenty-one (more constant than the first answer)

I don’t know if the first woman thought the second woman was stupid or a compulsive liar, but if I had offered the help – which I didn’t because I was going 5.5 mph on an 8 degree incline, and I was trying not to die – I would have asked which opinion the first woman held. Did she think the second woman was trying to save the treadmill for a friend and unplugged it? She examined this thing for a good minute before she moved to the empty treadmill on the other side of the second woman with flashing lights and a television that was on. If this woman is married I feel for her husband. The other event that struck me was the guy I followed through the locker room and out of the gym changed shirts in the parking lot. The Y has a huge locker room, and it was raining today. He carried his bag through the locker room, out the door into the rain, opened it, took off his shirt, and put on a new one - in the rain. Did he forget to change inside, or was he displaying his sculpted (read skinny) physique to the zeros of woman outside? Maybe the pollen is affecting everyone differently.