Gym Guy

So I had a good workout today, which basically means I didn't loathe my trainer and I didn't look in the mirror. I headed to the locker room, donned my sweet swim trunks, excited for a relaxing few minutes in the hot tub. Until I saw gym guy lounging around in the water. You know, the one who likes to dry off his nether regions with the hair dryer in his right hand and his left foot up on the counter. So I just went back to the showers, probably because I knew he wouldn't be in there.

I'm not good at picking out faces in a crowd, at describing how someone looks. But I tend not to forget funny and horrible experiences. So while at the gym, I just pretend that they're all the same person.

Remember purple silk briefs gym guy? Yeah, he's also turquoise-silk-briefs-with-purple-silk-dress-shirt-and-Axe-body-spray gym guy.

Then there's Right Guard aerosol gym guy. It's almost like he wants to disappear like a magician in smoke or a squid in ink. One second he's there, fogging the locker room, and the next second he's gone in a poof of canned deodorant spray.

Don't get me started on stretching-in-too-small-towel-while-in-sauna gym guy.

I have noticed that with the weather turning colder and the air drying out, gym guy uses a lot of lotion. I'm cool with that. Hands, elbows, maybe feet. My problem is when body-lotion-rubdown-in-the-nude gym guy thinks he's in his bathroom at home. I didn't even know lotion belonged there.

Weatherman-gym-guy and I chat every morning. He likes to tell me about stupid people who pay him flat fees to plow snow from their driveways and parking lots. I know when payday is, and he tells me how much he makes. Our three minute conversations always start with "Hey, bro. No snow today. Sweeeeeeet." I wish he wouldn't talk to me.

Then there's high-school-football gym guy. I get it: supporting the school kids, enjoying Friday night lights. But he doesn't have any kids at the school. He doesn't even live in the area. He's just a superfan of the team, buying all of their gear (at least all of their t-shirts and gym shorts). He records each game then "breaks down tape" every morning with the poor guy next to him who must not realize that he could pick a different locker.

My favorite moment last week was when I met lying-down-by-the-hot-tub-and-it-looks-like-he's-dead gym guy. It's not like anyone introduced us. I walked by the hot tub and he was lying there on the tile, neck contorted as he leaned against the wall. He totally looked dead. Not breathing, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. First Aid merit badge time... I tapped his knee with a good "Hey man, you ok?" To which he responded, "$*^% man I'M SLEEPING." Jeez, with an attitude like that, he'll have a hard time getting anyone to tap his knee when he really dies on the tile by the hot tub at the gym.

Unfortunately, leg-on-counter-with-high-powered-hair-dryer gym guy bid me adieu as I left the gym this morning. Someone should tell him that the towels are free and he doesn't need to blow dry all of his parts. Maybe I'll tap him on the knee tomorrow and let him know.