Hall of Gym Weirdness

A long while ago, I wrote about the different gym archetypes. This was, of course, before I have become one of the parodies. But this entry isn't about my cliches, it is about the other freakshows at the gym.

Notre Dame Guy. He is by far the scariest and perhaps smelliest of all of the Ballys' patrons. He looks like a homeless guy -- stringy hair, washes clothes in the sink, dries his underwear on the hand dryer, mutters to himself, and then when he sees himself in the mirror he will point at himself and start yelling. In a crazy way. I have subsequently seen him in the Jewel by my house (I suppose even people off their medication have to go grocery shopping). He reeks of stale-person smell, which just gets amplified when he gets wet. Which happens a lot since he spends his time in the shower and locker room, not actually in the workout part of the gym. To top off all of the oddness, most of his clothes are emblazoned with the Notre Dame logo.

Then there was a guy who, right in the middle of vigorously lathering his genitals, said in a chirpy, friendly tone, "Hey, How's it goin'?" as I left the showers. I just nodded to acknowledge I heard the question and kept on going. The weird part of of this is not that he was lathering his genitals and talking, because, hey, this is Boystown Ballys', but the fact that he wasn't turgid and the fact that he asked the question in the exact same way that you would waiting in line for coffee. I can deal with strokers; I can deal with chit chat, but chit chatting strokers, that is where I draw the line.

[I will only titilate you on the borderline sexual things that people do on a regular basis, like the guy that blow-dried his hair within in an inch of its life while standing completely naked in front of a mirror. Or the guy that slathers his body down with baby oil after a shower. Or the guy that wears a purple thong around the locker room. Or there is the guy that wears shorts so short that, um, well, that image isn't too pretty. Nevermind -- this is what happens when titilation goes wrong.]

There is all sorts of poseur activity, which I classify as weirdness. For example, people should not wear light-blue tinted sun-glasses at the gym. Ever. Or people shouldn't wear clothes that they don't want to get sweaty in.

Of course, that smashing sound you hear in the background is me in my delicate glass house throwing the first stone. But I can take it as much I can dish it -- I wear white gym socks that go up around my calves, but attempt to wear something that won't clash. I definitely sweat when I work out. I don't really care about lumpy hair in the morning, but I do chew gum because dragon breath is no fun for anyone. And, yes, I do watch myself workout in the mirrors. But that is what they're there for right?