During all of first semester for exercise I walked/ran the Ravenel Bridge; however, when I returned after Christmas break the coldness/wind factor on the bridge in the mornings was too much for me to handle. After a few weeks of touring new gyms in January, I finally settled on one in Mt. Pleasant because it reminded me the most of my gym in Spartanburg, which I adore and have belonged to for over 15 years.
So far, I have liked everything about this gym, minus two things:
1) My stepmom is also a member.
This is something I did not find out until I had already signed the contract and commenced my membership. I was up at the front desk getting my picture taken when the girl innocently said, "oh, you're from Spartanburg? Do you know an Eileen Spears?" I would have loved for her to snap my ID picture right then just so I could have seen the look on my face.
It's not that I mind that my stepmom and I belong to the same gym; we belong to the same gym in Spartanburg and it works out just fine. No, the problem inlies in the fact that she is going to be the one to have the coronary when (and if) she becomes enlightened to this fact. Such thoughts as, "why does she have to join MY gym?" or "why would she come all the way to Mt. Pleasant for a gym" will be her first reaction. Her second reaction is likely to be something as drastic as either changing gyms altogether, or haranguing me with questions so frequently about why I joined that particular gym that I acquiesce, cancel my membership, and start my gym search all over. (This likely will not happen because in my latter years I have started to realize the ultimate dysfunction/ludicrousness/sheer bullshit that is this approach. It helps nothing; in fact, one could argue this only feeds the beast).
Second gym problem:
Gross Creeper Guy.
At my gym in Spartanburg there is an overwhelming abundance of far-too-perky "soccer moms", and a surprisingly high number of elderly people due to the gym's affiliation with the local hospital's rehab program, but what we don't have are Creepers. But, at my new gym, there is one very creepy, very ever-present Creeper Guy.
Here are a few scenarios I have encountered lately, just to set the scene:
Sunday: I find out Creeper Guy's name is Manny. I find this out because as he enters the main door (situated directly next to the line of the elliptical machines where I was positioned), he yells, "MANNY'S HERE!" Now, I will go ahead and assuage any fears that I'm being overly mean to Creeper Manny because he's either a mongoloid or deaf, because that is not the case. Manny is actually a not entirely unattractive, probably late 30's age fellow that has the most deluded case of self-aggrandizement I have ever witnessed. Manny loves Manny, and Manny loves young women.
Monday: I thought that Manny's gym appearances were usually limited to the afternoon, so I was surprised to see him there when I arrived yesterday morning around 8 am. He was running (backwards, mind you) on the treadmill while screaming, "JILL! JILL! LOOK! HAAAA HAAA!" I don't know who the fuck Jill is because I couldn't seem to find anyone in a 50 foot radius that gave a rat's ass that Tool Bag was running on the treadmill backwards, but apparently my sideways glance in his direction was all the invitation he needed to immediately hit "stop" on his treadmill and bound over to the one next to where I was. Yet, rather than strike up a conversation (not that that's what I wanted), he proceeded to start the treadmill, work up to a run, and then have an ongoing commentary to himself about a myriad of random topics. I pretended to ignore him until he said, "you want this treadmill? Cause if you take then I have an excuse to get off of it and watch a pretty girl run." GROSS. I promptly refused, but Manny was not defeated and he maintained his backwards running/running commentary shenanigans until I left my treadmill upwards of 30 minutes later.
Today: I accidentally slept til 7:30 this morning, so when I woke up I decided to go straight to the library instead of the gym. By about 3 pm I'd had all I could take of brief writing, so I went to the gym to blow off steam. I was about 15 minutes into a good running pace and intensely focused on women's biathlon (there wasn't much else on tv) when someone overly-energetically jumped onto the treadmill next to me. Backwards. Guess who?! MANNY. Manny then proceeds to tell me that he likes the color of my shirt; had I ever been to the Olympics in person; what did I do for a living ... ad nauseum. Five minutes into questioning, I aborted my workout without explanation and headed out the door.
As I was driving home, I chastised myself for letting this Class A douchebag cut MY workout short at a gym where I pay the dues and go to unwind. So, here's your warning, Creeper Manny. It's on.
