Whoever it was that designed my gym had a sense of humor. Case in point: It’s a circular layout with the cardio in the middle. Wouldn’t you know that no self-respecting lifter would walk through the cardio area to get to his next lift? Anyone that knows simple geometry also knows that a straight line through the cardio is quickest, but time and time again I see these guys walking around in an arc. Sometimes it’s three-quarters of the way around the circle. Explain that.
Interesting enough really, but the real comic genius is in the locker room. Now and then the thermostat gets cranked up a hundred freakin degrees Celsius to keep people from hanging out and chatting, and in order to get to the showers you have to walk through pee stains, but that isn’t even the best part. The real gem is an ordinary two-foot by five-foot piece of reflective glass, one of two, located at the entrance of the room, which I affectionately refer to as “The Idol.”
Though another mirror identical to this one is placed above the sinks and the pee stains, the Idol is preferred by almost everyone that enters this domain. Imagine if you will a ten by twenty foot room with lockers on all four walls. The entrance is located on one end with the Idol hanging triumphant directly to the right on the long wall. Further down that wall is the entrance to the showers via the pee stains. Directly opposing the Idol is, of course, prime real estate. I have seen open lockers emptied of their contents because the holder unfortunately forgot his lock. Incidentally, this never happens on the other end.
Now listen closely here. The benching arrangement involves a line down the left of the room in front of the lockers, but the best bench is located---where? Right in front of the Idol, pushed against it. The lockers on the wall next to the Idol are only two-thirds the size of a normal locker, but some still get used! Which ones? The two or three right next to our friend, the Idol, of course you idiot!
Each day I witness the same ritual. It’s amazing, really, even when you take into consideration the creatures of habit that we all are. Men routinely walk past this altar sneaking a glance at themselves without blatantly busting a Ronnie Coleman. That is, unless someone is occupying the sacred bench and thereby effectively blocking the Idol's solemn surveillance. There is someone at this bench every single day. Here’s the punch line: I have never seen anyone deliberately flexing his junk.
Do these gentlemen have any clue how ridiculous this is? It’s no secret what happens in front of a mirror; that’s why it’s there. I prefer the prime real estate rather than the sacred bench because when you are naked two feet from a mirror you’re not checking yourself out anymore. You’re looking another dude up and down and buddy that’s just not me. I can’t stand when I’m about to unleash the goods from their perch and some fatbody parks his carcass in the sacred area, completely blocking my view with a nasty, smelly, hairy ass. Buddy, if you had something to check out, the ending would be somewhat happier, but this is Greek Tragedy here.
Do these characters think they are being so nonchalant about their voyeurism that nobody with an IQ in the double digits can figure it out??? I see you looking at yourself like the evil stepmother over there! Stop what you're doing! Take a break and just go ahead and look at yourself. Get it over with and then get your pudgy Fruit of the Loom stretching double blimp off to the side. You are not Mr. Sneaky Man. Godzilla could pull off a career in cat burglary better than this. The guy with the mini-locker actually has to sidestep over two feet to get himself dressed in position. Hmmmm. Real sneaky, hot shot. Better yet even all the prime real estaters have to do a 180 to adorn themselves properly. Go figure. Why is that?
The Idol continues to this day unbroken to stand it’s silent watch over this laughable display of buffoonery as a testament to man’s obviously suppressed inner self. Whatever happened to confident men that don’t care what others think of them? I just finished throwing heavy pieces of steel around for an hour and I think I look pretty darn noteworthy. You betcher ass I’m checking myself out. I earned it. Laugh and I’ll snap you with my towel. If you’re looking at yourself, for crying out loud, LOOK! Flex while you're at it. Get some balls.
<message edited by Naviator on Monday, March 14, 2005 4:39 PM>