Gym Neighbors
Started using the health club here at the office today; I can't say I'm real impressed. The equipment, even at its most adjustable, is clearly made for somebody at least five inches shorter than me. And all of the weights are indicated by means of decals ... which have all worn off. Did I chest press 85 lbs or 150? I have no idea, the decals were worn off.
However, the worst part of it all was Chatty Guy. We're talking Mikey from Class Menagerie, at around age 38. After telling us his views on Iraq and Colin Powell (neither of which I was interested in), advising us all on why velcro-closed tennis shoes were better than laced ones (and that Wal-Mart has the best deal on same), he then headed off to the locker room for 45 minutes.
I stalled on the treadmill hoping he'd go (I didn't want to think about what advice he'd try to give me in the shower), but eventually I reached the point where I had just enough time to shower and change and get to work on time, so reluctantly I went to the locker room, where I was confronted by Chatty Guy in his underwear.
Apparently unfazed by the mental emanations of "Don't talk to me!" I was broadcasting at full strength, he attempted to initiate small talk. I responded politely but without enthusiasm and headed off to the shower.
Third Guy came in at around this point, heading straight for the toilet stall and filling the entire locker room with a heady aroma. *cough* Wrapped in a towel and standing under the hair dryer, I emanated mental commands to Chatty Guy to finish getting dressed and get the heck outa there, but he continued to disregard them.
Third Guy came out of the stall and headed for his locker -- only to be pounced upon instantly by Chatty Guy, who gave him a very sanctimonious lecture on how he should wash his hands after using the bathroom. Third Guy, feathers rightfully ruffled, responded that he hadn't left the locker room yet, and produced the dispenser of soap he'd gone to his locker to retrieve.
This, fortunately, had the effect of making Chatty Guy sheepish and embarrassed, so he quickly dressed and made a hasty exit. Third Guy headed out to do his workout shortly thereafter, and I finished my morning preparations in peace -- finally.
I am thinking that the membership fees to this health club would be better spent on that Bowflex I've been wanting...
-The Gneech, mentally rearranging the furniture at home to free up some space
However, the worst part of it all was Chatty Guy. We're talking Mikey from Class Menagerie, at around age 38. After telling us his views on Iraq and Colin Powell (neither of which I was interested in), advising us all on why velcro-closed tennis shoes were better than laced ones (and that Wal-Mart has the best deal on same), he then headed off to the locker room for 45 minutes.
I stalled on the treadmill hoping he'd go (I didn't want to think about what advice he'd try to give me in the shower), but eventually I reached the point where I had just enough time to shower and change and get to work on time, so reluctantly I went to the locker room, where I was confronted by Chatty Guy in his underwear.
Apparently unfazed by the mental emanations of "Don't talk to me!" I was broadcasting at full strength, he attempted to initiate small talk. I responded politely but without enthusiasm and headed off to the shower.
Third Guy came in at around this point, heading straight for the toilet stall and filling the entire locker room with a heady aroma. *cough* Wrapped in a towel and standing under the hair dryer, I emanated mental commands to Chatty Guy to finish getting dressed and get the heck outa there, but he continued to disregard them.
Third Guy came out of the stall and headed for his locker -- only to be pounced upon instantly by Chatty Guy, who gave him a very sanctimonious lecture on how he should wash his hands after using the bathroom. Third Guy, feathers rightfully ruffled, responded that he hadn't left the locker room yet, and produced the dispenser of soap he'd gone to his locker to retrieve.
This, fortunately, had the effect of making Chatty Guy sheepish and embarrassed, so he quickly dressed and made a hasty exit. Third Guy headed out to do his workout shortly thereafter, and I finished my morning preparations in peace -- finally.
I am thinking that the membership fees to this health club would be better spent on that Bowflex I've been wanting...
-The Gneech, mentally rearranging the furniture at home to free up some space