Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Gold's Gym



Take it from me, don't let yourself go people, because the long road back is fraught with humiliation, subjugation, and pain.
Two nights have passed since my last visit to the strip mall jerk off station, Gold's Gym. I accidentally rolled in around 6:30 P:M, which is apparently when they let the sex offender, ankle-bracelet crew out for a little R & R in the yard.
S'quatch and I are making our rounds: sit-ups, lunges, crunches, and then the bench press. The bench area is of course, where the freaks lurk. Whether it is positioning oneself to view scrota up the shorts leg of a fellow member, or just pumping iron to build your own set of masculine DD's, the bench press area attracts perverts like a petting zoo.

I humbly accept the flourescent lights, the tribal tattoo parade, and the thumping bass of the latest Spears-Federline effort as my just deserts, but so far nobody has entered my zone of discomfort until this guy, this "ogling squash smuggler" with his too-tight teal sweat pants, and obvious lack of package restraint.

My radar codes red, only seconds to avert incoming hostile fire, but I'm too late. Captain Magnanimous, Prince Charming himself, Dr. Cash Money Sasquatch says, "Sure you can work in a set". He then encourages John Wayney Gacy Jr. with comments like "Hey, you're wearing blue suede Reeboks, that's great", and counting off the reps "1,2, you got it bro, 3, 4" as the man's little summer squash rises and falls in anticipation of fellow bench-area dwellers checking him out. Disgusting. The man has had a taste of success and now he's losing all self-control. We are seconds away from becoming permanent workout buddies when I give him the grumpy, irritated, "Look man, I just want to do my shit and get out of here" dismissal.

Blink-blink, adjust squash, go off pouting.

There is one person at Gold's Gym who really has it made, and I have yet to meet him or her. The sauna has been broken since the day I joined, and that distresses me, but somebody has the sweet job of scribbling out the date it will be repaired and writing in a new date. How hard is that? The sign says "scheduled for repair May 19". On May 19, you get your red marker, sneak into the locker room when nobody is around, and write a big primary school "2" over the "1".

What do they do in the 10-day interim before it's time to change the "May" to "SeptMayber"?

I'm going to have to stake the place out and see, not that I'm a freak or anything.

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