Men At Gyms

So I recently joined a gym in anticipation of my upcoming holiday to Croatia. I expected to encounter many obstacles, number one being the treadmill which just screams accident waiting to happen. What I did not expect was the main obstacle being men. They are forever getting in your way with their lack of manners and man muscles in your face.

I thought I’d start out slow, don’t want to overdo it and be unable to sit down, so I hit the swimming pool first. It’s a rather small swimming pool but not a busy gym so when I entered it was deserted.
I set myself the challenge of managing fifteen laps (I’m a poor swimmer as it is) and was gearing up for lap number ten when a man descended the steps into the pool. Ok not a problem right? Wrong. Why do men swim like tidal waves? On lap number eleven he came crashing up behind me pounding his fists in the water like Godzilla and I found myself frantically doggy paddling as if a shark was chasing me to dodge him punching me in the back of the neck. I must have drunk my body weight in chlorine by the time I reached the edge of the pool and stopped to get my breath back. This pool isn’t big enough for the both of us I thought, as he stopped alongside me and hawked up some flem for extra flavour.
I decided to give him the pool to himself as I didn’t have the strength or the stomach to swim after watching him gob in it, so I headed to the steam room.
Bliss, it was completely empty. I must have been in there relaxing for about five minutes when the door opened and a man in his late forties entered in tight red swim shorts with his beer belly bouncing over the waistband. I’m not judgemental or snobbish so I wasn’t concerned about this. He sat down on the small marble bench directly opposite me and as the thick steam billowed round us I could see him reaching into his swim short pocket and pulling out a small green tub of some sort.  I thought nothing of it and closed my eyes as the steam was starting to cloud my vision anyway.

Suddenly the air in my lungs became sharper and had a sort of menthol kick to it, making it difficult to breathe. I opened my eyes to see the man in the red shorts deeply inhaling whilst slowly greasing up his hairy chest with Vicks VapourRub. Disgusting! Nice of you to spread those germs around mate, really considerate. I then found myself wondering can I leave now or will it be really obvious that I got out because he got in? But how long can I stay in here before he infects me with whatever disease he’s got? The man in the red shorts then snooked and coughed loudly and I shot out of the steam room like a wasp had just circled me.

I  sneezed all the way home.

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2 thoughts on “Men At Gyms

  1. Being a man who goes to the gym I find this perspective hilarious, enlightening, and suspicion-affirming. When I go, I go to get in a workout and then I leave. It is just me and my iPod in my own little world, trying to interface as little as possible with everyone else, but every once in a while there are those that flail their cockiness or clumsiness around so much it is impossible not to notice (banging weights, grunting, staring down women, etc.). The wit with which you write is perfect for this article. I cannot wait to read more of your work.

    Liked by 1 person

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