Posts Tagged ‘gym’

That crazy girl at the …

August 7, 2013

1. Gym: The one who is weaving and swaying on the stationary bike, grunting and shaking  to the beat in her head. She stops every so often to stretch and hang her head in utter exhaustion on the handle bars. Tossing her head back and forth as if to fight off the inner demons/thighs crying for more rest, she regains her strength and starts to build momentum – pushing, pulling, grinding up that 80% hill. Go! Go! Go!

Gonna KILL uuuu!!

Gonna KILL uuuu!!

… this is all while the rest of the class is following the instructor and obediently participating in a seated sprint at a meager 60%. Thanks for the distraction.

2. Staples in Waltham, MA: Working alone on a project in a public space, you are a sitting duck to a variety of unfortunate events: pen theft, spilled coffee, the unexpected anti-immigration reform conversations. While constructing a proposal at a local Staples (my printer was out of ink and somehow this seemed easier), I was sitting near a girl who was working on her gorgeous wedding invites. The sparkling cut-out letters, wafting calligraphy and bright bows made her a beaming target. We’ll call little miss “Girl A”.

Girl A is proudly showing me her invitations like a toothy kindergartener when an odd woman shuffles up behind us and inquires about something with one of the customer service representatives. Whatever answer they gave her wasn’t acceptable, so she whirls around to face us with a gwuh-fah (say that out loud, it’s really fun!). Let’s call this woman “Old Bat” shall we? Old Bat approached Girl A and me to inspect what we were working on in a dreadfully tactless way of breaking into unsolicited conversation.

“You know? It’s all of these damned immigrants comin’ in here takin’ our jobs. That’s way I ain’t got no job. Some black person took it,” Old Bat explained to us as she picked up one of Girl A’s pieces of art. Much to the chagrin of Girl A.

“I’m sorry, what are you saying?” Girl A shot me a look of confusion and disbelief, I tried to go back to my proposal.

“That’s just the thang. I can’t get a job cuz of immigrants. They are takin’ everything we have!” Old Bat was really getting worked up and the customer service people were looking uncomfortable. Fortunately, Girl A was a woman now what with getting married and all, so she took matters into her own hands.

“I’m sorry. I can’t discuss this with you right now. We obviously have different views on things and I really need to finish this project. Thank you for understanding.”

Boom. Old Bat took her problems out of Staples and all Girl A and I could do was nervously laugh with each other.

“That literally happens to me ALL THE TIME,” Girl A lamented.

3. Bar/anywhere with alcohol: I once was with a customer – not the one who received the proposal from the previous example – and a woman came into the store to make a purchase. Things started normally enough what with the entry in through the door and all, but then things took a bizarre turn. She came right up to the counter:

“I really need a drink,” she sighed, placing her hands on the counter dramatically. My customer left the table where we were speaking to assist this to-be drunk woman. He couldn’t even get three words of greeting out of his mouth before this happened:

“My sister is going to jail for stealing from my mom! She even stole my cell phone and sold it for drugs. This is her fourth time in jail! I don’t know what to do,” the woman wailed. My customer looks over to me, my mouth has accidently dropped open, then we both look back at the woman who is so close to tears you can almost taste it.

“Well,” says my customer. “What’ll it be?”

4. What’s yours?


When you break my heart, I charge you in Cotton

June 19, 2012

Ehhh, you might not have broken my heart, but I like your clothes… a lot. Women’s sports gear is nothing like men’s. It’s a sales tool created by backstabbing marketing women who work for the hoodie companies, if you ask me. These damned women know that other women prefer the comfort of men’s clothing when relaxing as opposed to their own damned clothing. Which then begs the question: Why aren’t women’s hoodies as bad ass as men’s hoodies? The two hoodies that I have are small and not really comfortable. However, the hoodies I’ve acquired from my ex’s are SO much better! They usually smell pleasant, they’re spacious and of course, wildly soft. I can’t believe it! I would so buy a hoodie that replicated these specifications, but they aren’t sold in any department store that I’m aware of … therefore, I keep yours!

I mean, you’re not getting this back. Sorry.

When couples break up, there is the usual exchanging of things: You get your Mac Air back, both flat screen TVs, the Ipad, etc. I keep the couch… the shitty couch that neither of us wanted. I had to buy everything all over again, and while I completely enjoyed purchasing new things… it was still about 3K of new crap. However, I’m keeping the Abercrombie hoodie!

2.0 brought over a slew of clothes for me to keep. The tooth brush got pitched, but I have some of the most comfortable bed time clothes ever. I’m always amazed by this constant steady trend: Who knew that men’s clothes would be so much more comfortable than women’s clothes? I mean, I’m about ready to date a man based upon his wardrobe… and what I want to wear.

I have this pair of designer jeans that I bought for my most recent ex back in the day when everything was Dorothy’s magic rainbow. Now they have rips in them in the ass and around the knees, but my god, these suckers are SO comfortable that I wear them around the city on my days off regardless of my showing skin. They’re Rockin’ Republic and after years of wear and tear, these jeans are so comfortable and loose, I feel like I’m wearing elephant skin. No, I don’t look attractive or professional, but hell, they’re designer.

A drawer for chilly nights!!

I have quite the assortment of “assassin” hoodies. These are men’s hoodies that are over sized on me of course, and they offer shelter from the sunshine in the AM. I love it. Both hoodies are black but one is thin and great for summer weather while the other is a tad thicker for a cold morning. I have two lovely choices and no one is taking them away from me.

Also, I have a great pair of shorts that some doofus donated to the cause. When I sleep with form-fitting jammie bottoms, they imprint on my hips and contrict my breathing all at the same time. However, these nice new gym shorts I have are much more comfortable and spacious. Don’t get me wrong, I adore skinny jeans and flashy tight shirts but my goodness, I also appreciate late night wear that doesn’t make me look attractive by smashing my bits into forms that only hold for a few hours!

So, boys, you’re never getting your clothes back. You told me to screw or I lost interest and here we go: We’re no longer together and I have a new bedtime/slummin’ wardrobe.

10 Things That I Judge about You

May 6, 2012

While this is not directed at anyone in particular, I can’t help but wonder who will be aghast at my boldness. Or perhaps this will secure a new habit or the removal of one in a person’s life and they’ll be that much better for it.

1. Bathroom cleanliness: When I walk into your bathroom and you don’t have, say, SOAP, I know for a fact you probably didn’t just run out this morning. You haven’t had suds in there for weeks. And where is the toilet paper? Ohhh! It’s right next to the toilet on the floor, waiting for misdirected pee. Wonderful, I’m thrilled to use your floor TP. Or the hand towel with green tooth paste smeared down the middle for me to dry my un-soaped hands upon after I’m done using ground toilet paper. Is there a ring around the toilet to the extent of foul that I literally have to hover and hold just to feel sanitary? And the shower? I personally have about five different face soaps to choose from and I like to mix it up with the shampoos too. I judge what you like to use to clean yourself. Do you like Neutragena? Jergans? Do you even have face soap? I love seeing what people carry in their showers! Often I get new ideas of what I should be using. My girl Melissa has SO many wonderful goodies for me to choose from, I may not leave her shower for an hour because I want to lather, rise, repeat with every shampoo she has to offer!

2. Cell phones during dinner: Going out to dinner is one of my favorite things to do with either my friends or a date. And I completely understand in certain situtations, business must continue while I’m stuffing my face with jumbo lump crab and sipping on Champagne. However, Facebook checking, Google, searching and naturally the ex-girlfriend texts are most decidedly off-limits. I realize I can be dull every now and then, but please, for Christ sake, just tell me I suck at conversation. I’ll take that over the passive aggressive I-phone app shopping. I can’t believe this has to be one of my 10 things I judge about you. No one has retained their dinner table training through the years of technology development apparently. Winning.

3. Ticks that involve body parts: In my high school public speaking class, my teacher brought to light the nervous ticks people exhibit during uncomfortable moments. I play with my hair, talk with my hands, and smile off to the side of my mouth. However, never, I repeat, NEVER would I tick in a manner that literally repulsed the person with whom I was speaking. I am shocked and dismayed by the crotch grabbing, nose picking, ear wax searching and pants adjusting that is allowed during face to face conversation. I’m going to start clucking or making some sort of animal noise any time someone stuffs a finger in their nose when I’m talking with them just to see what happens. “Why did you just … Laura, did you just quack?” “Yes, why is your finger in your ear drum right now?” I can’t be asked to accept this type of behavior. It’s horribly rude! Imagine you offer your hand to greet a person who just watch you fix your crotch! What must they think of you? I certainly don’t want you touching me, and I know you! How much more so for a complete stranger/client/lady/boss/etc.

4. Silverware Warrior: Silverware was made to gentrify society. It keeps the hands clean, the table free of flying food and hopefully, secures that your food makes a successful trip to your mouth. Cutlery is to be held in a firm, graceful manner with poise and purpose. It immediately reflects on your upbringing. Ask my nana. That’s what she told me and nobody argues with Nanny. As of late, I’ve noticed something grossly disturbing: Silverware is a weapon. A fork has become a cattle prod meant to jab and dash, smearing sauce around the plate followed by a finger to push a side onto the utensil. Who needs a knife when you have an index finger? A fork needs to be held by your fingers not in your fist like a dagger. A knife is held with your index finger pointed downward, thumb pointed forward, and the rest of the digits face behind the handle towards your body. I immediately feel anxiety when I see this dining behavior as I know that you can NEVER meet Nanny. She’s Italian and she’ll eat you up with a sharp, disciplinary tone. Then I’ll hear about “That boy/girl with the horrible table manners. Please don’t bring them to the club again, Law-rah.”

5. Facebook pictures of food: My brother’s girlfriend brought this to my attention recently and I couldn’t agree more. When you make food, it looks SO much better in real-time than online. In fact, food typically exhibits a greasy gloss from the digital camera’s flash to an extent that I’m actually throwing up in my mouth at the thought of you eating that shit. To be honest, I have fallen victim to posting pictures last year of a baller stew I made. Even when I posted the picture, I wasn’t happy with how my dinner looked. Why do we post these things? Who cares? It’s just food. Oh first world problems…

6. Uncontrolled Body Odor: While bathing is traditionally a typical daily function, I see no reason to demand it. Should the need arise when you smell like a boar, perhaps washing your armpits is required for the sanitary sake of mankind. However, at any point… at any point of the day when you notice that you don’t feel fresh, you must attend to this matter. I beseech you. I have broken up with men over the issue of body odor. As I once said in my public speaking class of long ago: It is better to smell way too good and have the scent wear off then to smell even a little bit bad and have that problem only get worse.

Make up at the Gym: When you come pay homage to the iron gods after work, naturally you’re bound to still have on the day’s colors. This section is not directed towards you. I’m talking about the Jersey Shore ladies who stroll in to the gym at 8am on a Wednesday dolled up to the nines. Boobs are everywhere, bright pink lipstick on cologine injected lips, and hoop earings. My spin girls and I look like sweaty morning girls next to you, and you just look like a beauty queen contestant. The gym is where we go to make ourselves look better during the rest of the day; it’s certainly not the place to attempt to woo a mate while sitting on a back machine. This 40-something year old gal at my gym just started working out with one of my trainer friends and she looks absolutely ridiculous doing squats with a face full of bronzer. Recognize there is a time and a place for clownish makeup, my gym isn’t it!

Flossing Issue: I don’t carry dental floss around in my purse; I’m not that anal about this point. But make no mistake, if you do not ever floss, everyone knows it. Without having a lick of dentistry knowledge in my repertoire, I know that plaque builds up between your teeth during the day and into the evening and must be conquered at night prior to bedding. If you have never opened your mouth for minty string, I beg you to reconsider. The plaque build up makes for one of the most recognizable, putrid smells I’ve ever encountered. It’s as if an old dog took an old poo in an old barnyard right before he died. Once you smell this type bacteria, you’ll never forget. My roommate just described the process the bacteria goes through to generate such a smell, but I can’t even stomach the thought… Floss. Baz Luhrmann included this advice in the Sunscreen monologue, so obviously we must heed his words!

9. Extensive Dropping: Names, Status, Titles, etc: About a month ago, I was in a car accident and the Medford police officer was so inappropriate and condescending that I nearly lost my cool. At 8:45am in a gym parking lot, there is never a need to gross rudeness. Oddly enough, later that day I was interacting with a few men and one of them said, “Hey, I’m a cop.” Who the f*ck cares!? You’re still going to get the same treatment, service, conversation and ultimately rejection that you would have received if you were the owner of a pet store! Hey, I’m a cop?! Are you kidding me? Or the people who say, “Hey, get _______, I know him. He’ll take care of this.” (which usually means that they want something for free). You know what’s hilarious? I typically know the person who you think is gonna vouch for you and cater to your whim. I’ll bet they wouldn’t appreciate you abusing their name. Or when someone throws around, “Hey, I’m in the industry,” or “Hey, I’m a sommelier” or “Actually, I own restaurants” or even better “Actually, I used to have your job”… If you want something for free, maybe act civilized and someone will take pity on you or simply stay home and eat popcorn. That’s free. I don’t care if you’re a cop. I don’t care if you know Mr. Del (there isn’t one BTW), I don’t care what your status is in life whatsoever. Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? Can you participate in daily social situations without your insecurities blatantly waving in the wind? Make it a practice, please.

10. Your money: For those of you who aren’t aware, I have a job. I work hard, I play hard, I pay hard.  I like it hard. In certain circles of friends, I noticed the “no, I got the bill” conversation never happens. Iphone calculators happen. This is a grevious mistake; a $50 check and lower must be covered by one person. Hell, make the non-paying party member leave the tip. But to whip out deux credit cards for anything less that $50 is just cheap. Aren’t you both going next door anyway? Can she pay for this drink and you buy the next one? It would minimize the junk receipts in your purses y’know. Or when you offer to buy me a drink and I say (all together now) A slightly dirty Double Cross martini extra cold with three olives. And you say, “really?” in reference to that fact that I didn’t order a $3 Bud Lite. Yes, really. Don’t offer to buy me a cocktail if you can’t handle the order, I’ll get the damn thing myself. I came alone, didn’t I? I don’t know how to manage my money – it’s one of my flaws – but I certainly know that if I’m going out, it’s not for some crappy Bud Lite. I worked hard all day, I need a martini to the face. Beer is for the afternoon.

So, this is just a little laundry list that I compiled over the month after noticing -isums about people around me. The Silverware Warrior is truly my worst annoyance. My nanny can’t be ignored…