Life is tough, and gyms are the places to let off steam. But sometimes it isn’t so easy. After a crappy day, rather than take out all your personal shit on the punch bag or pummel the crap out of the treadmill, you end up wanting to hit the people working out instead. Jesus – some of those fuckers are annoying.

Every gym has them – that species of human that should never, ever, EVER have been granted membership.

Aerobics classes boast the worst offenders. As if Body Attack wasn’t irritating enough – remember the hideous Gruesome Twosome? – there is now a plethora of fitness weirdos to make that hour of fun just a little more testing.

The one I currently hate the most (yes, it is subject to change) is the Ponytail Wannabe. She’s the lanky piece sporting a shit high ponytail whom truly believes she’s that hot she’s on fire. Sorry love, you need to take a long, hard look in the mirror, put that fire out, and face the fact that you are more EastEnders, not Grey’s Anatomy.

But it isn’t her deluded vision of herself that’s so annoying. It’s her ability to fling herself around the already miniscule amount of space like a rhino in plimsoles. Not only is she painful to watch, but actually painful. Twice last week she hit me in the face mid-leap and at least three times did her elephant paws stomp on me. I swear if she does it again this week I’m going to knock her out.

And then there are the blokes. Oh dear. The thought of them is bringing tears to my eyes, and not with laughter. The one I want to render infertile is the Lame Woofter in skimpy shorts. Most gay men I know are hot, but this one puts his fellow queens to shame. There he is, every week, in these ridiculous crotch-exposing shorts – I swear I’ve seen his balls hanging out a couple of times – and poooeey, that rank sweat-soaked singlet really needs to see the bin. But the outfit isn’t the most offensive thing about him – its the fact that he actually sings along with the shite ‘club’ music (‘club music’ if you’re from South Africa, that is). Who does that. I mean, seriously, WHO?

And last, but not least, is Dippy Limbs – the girl who can’t put one foot next to the other, remotely in time. She is the least vile, but how someone is not capable of keeping in time with the music is actually unfathomable. She gets on my tits as she’s always at the front of the class, so all I can see is her limbs flailing in the opposite direction to everybody else’s, which makes me feel nauseous. Plus the unstable vision puts me off my stride.

Maybe steel toe-capped trainers could be the answer? Now that might be something to pitch to Nike…


One thought on “Gymrage

  1. Pingback: When I Think Of You « Gymwatch

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