Barnmouse Blitherings

July 16, 2007, 8:43 pm
Filed under: whineyness

At the gym.

Seriously y’all.  Any other time, if you ran into these people on the street or in the mall or at the dentist, they would look like totally normal human beings.  But at the gym, it’s teased hair, shiny pink spandex, giant scrunchies, buckets of hairspray, and sweatshirts with the sleeves and bottoms and necks cut off…so we can look at their sports bras.  Gee.  Thanks.  My eyes are bleeding.  Because I poked them out.  So I wouldn’t have to look at your puffy 8 inch tall bangs.

And the little “yoga corner” does nothing to help me out.  It’s right in front of two of the machines that I use so I either have to watch them stick their butts up in the air and their legs over their heads or I have to close my eyes.  So far, I’ve gone with the second option.  But honestly, that’s starting to get looks.

The day I walk into the gym and see leg warmers is the day I go completely insane.


I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to sing Footloose and dance around the house like an idiot.  And cut loose….footloose….kick off my Sunday shoes…. But seeing how it’s Monday, I think I’ll try and keep my shoes on.

I had other things to write about, but frankly, I’ve forgotten what they are.  Leg warmers tend to have that effect on me.

Anyway.  The gym we go to has this personal trainer woman (supposedly) that Rat took…umm…personal training lessons (?) from when we first signed up since he had never been a member of a gym before and wanted to learn how to properly use all of the machines.  He only took lessons from her for a month and that month was over about 2 months ago.  Yet every time we go in there, she’s just got to go talk to him.  Which bugs me.  Mostly because I don’t like her because the first time I ever met her she told me that she had shown Rat a lot of exercises that would be good for me too.


I’m sure I probably took that the wrong way, but seriously….I don’t care.  I have a friend who is a member of another gym here in town and I was telling her this and she said, “Wait…is her name ******???” and I said, “Um…yeah.”.  And needless to say it did not go well from there.  Apparently this “lady” was a personal trainer at another  gym and was such a pain in the ass, know-it-all bitch that they fired her. 

So now, when we’re driving home and Rat says ****** came over and talked to me again today, I tend to say some slightly sarcastic possibly not super sweet things about her.  Because she bugs me.  A lot.  Today, my little tirade lead Rat to ask me “Are you just incapable of being nice?”.  Let me tell ya’…that didn’t help.

But y’all…I was on FIRE!  You know when you just keep thinking of hilarious (to you) things?  They just kept on comin’.  Of course, she does provide a wealth of fodder for me.  The overly tanned skin (she looks ORANGE), the fried bleach blonde hair that she wears in a banana clip that halfway hangs off (oh the horror), and the stringy overly pumped up look that kinda makes you think she used to be a man.  But then she throws her attitude into the mix and I just can’t shut my mouth.

It’s no wonder she runs up to Rat every time he’s in there.  It’s not like she’s working with any clients.  No one wants her for a personal trainer.  Not when every other personal trainer at my gym is super nice and friendly.  Even the guys who look like they bathe in steroids. (I’m pretty sure they don’t)

But I’ll try to keep my mouth shut.  And pray for the day that we go to the gym and her picture is no longer under the “personal trainer” sign.  And I won’t have to listen to any more unsolicited advice from a woman I’ve never said more than “hi” to, much less PAID for training sessions.

I will try to be nice.

And just for fun….what the hell?



1 Comment so far
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I still can’t believe we actually thought leg warmers were so cool at one point.

Comment by Shell

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