Last Friday I decided to do a Step class at my local gym in Lewisham, a simple early evening excursion before I headed out to the pub. This happened to be one of those classic gym sessions that reminded me why I started writing this blog in the first place. Material is everywhere.
Within one hour, whilst I was tripping over my feet like a baby elephant in plimsolls and swearing at the instructor under my breath, I wrote 4 comedy sketches in my head.
Sketch One – Girl putting make-up on before her Step Class – cut to shot of her face sodden with black eyeliner, mascara and smudged red lipstick, grinning inanely thinking she’s the fittest piece of ass in the room.
How can someone put make-up on before a class? What on earth was the woman thinking? Was it ‘just in case’ she met her soulmate out on the gym floor? Idiot.
Sketch Two – Fat girl kitted out head-to-toe in a bright orange velour two-piece – cut to her falling dramatically off her step and crashing to the floor. She lies there without moving like a beached whale, waiting for someone to help her up.
How humiliating. Not sure which part was worse – falling off or the bright orange outfit. She looked like a big juicy sweaty satsuma falling out of a tree and splattering to the ground, bursting out of its peel on impact. Nice.
Sketch Three – Attractive woman at the front of the class, giving it some keep fit welly, not one bead of sweat trickling off her body – cut to me trying to get a look up close to see if that could actually be the case (is she human?) and she’s clearly thinking I’m checking her out for a bit of lesbo action.
Sorry, but I don’t understand this thing about not sweating. How is that physically possible? Please could someone explain this to me, if anything just to stop the rumours in the gym that I bat for the other side.
Sketch Four – Older woman, in a skin tight one-piece, with the biggest comedy arse that I have ever seen in my life – cut to her sideways profile that blocked out my view of the instructor, like a total eclipse of the sun.
Wow. Total admiration for her being so proud of her booty. And to frame it with a one-piece as well. It was so pumped up I actually thought it might burst.
I tell you – the gym is brimming with comedy in every sweaty corner. What on earth will I encounter on my next visit? Stay tuned.