After taking a day off to visit my friend in Monterey, you'd think I'd have a blog about the hike we went on, watching the All-Star game, seeing a dead Sea Lion on the beach, or even going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium (yes, this was an activity packed 24 hours.) I might have even had a post about my cat, Cosmo, who hunted and killed a bird only to bring it back to our back porch as a gift for us.
Oh no, my friends. I may get to some of that stuff later, but tonight, I saw something way more ridiculous. I went to the 24 hour fitness on Fulton and Hurley in Sacramento. I lifted chest, then went into the aerobic room to stretch and craft my abs of steel (still working on those...) I immediately noticed that it was a bit more crowded than normal for a Wednesday night at 10:30pm. The other thing I noticed was the muscle-bound meathead sprinting back and forth at full speed in this small aerobic room (must be the size of half a basketball court, if that.) I thought to myself, "This seems like a ridiculously inconvenient and inefficient way to do wind sprints." My second thought was, "I bet this guy does steroids." With his cutoff T-shirt, his unnatural tan, and his baby ponytail, his was a strong candidate for douche bag of the year.
I had my headphones because I love listening to music, and I love tuning people at the gym out even more. I grabbed a mat and made sure not to get in this 'roided out freak's way. Other people were not so careful. One unsuspecting guy walked in the room and headed to the front next to the mirror. The running man stopped his sprint just to yell at the guy for getting in his way. Then Roidy McRoidson hopped around like a boxer as if to let everyone know that he was trying to calm himself down, but he may not be able to help himself if someone else gets in his way.
Without fail, another guy walked in the room looking to do some plyometrics, and mildly walked near the area where the jerk was running. The roid rage continued. With a serious of passive aggressive grunts and hand gestures, it was made obvious that the roid dude was displeased.
I'm fairly certain this second guy to disrupt the workout was also perturbed and intentionally got in the dude's way a second time (this is strike three for anyone who has been counting.) The roid rage could not be contained.
"C'mon man?! Why the fuck are you getting in my way?!"
"Seriously dude? What is your problem?"
"I'm trying to get a workout in and stay looking good." (Is this guy serious? Yes. In fact, he was very serious.)
"You need to chill out"
"Don't tell me to chill out! I'm 36 and you're just a kid! You should respect me!"
"You got nothing on me! Nothing! (Lifts up his own shirt and flexes his abs) What you got?! You got nothing on me!"
"Stop being such an asshole."
"You wanna race?! I will smoke you!" (Yeah, I'm still not joking about this. This really happened.)
"Dude, I'm good. Just chill out."
"That's right! You're just a kid and you know you would lose!"
At this point he walked out of the aerobic room and into the night. I hope he doesn't rape anyone.
When Future Mrs. B. came into the aerobic room, I relayed the story. Not surprisingly, she asked if he was wearing a gray cut off T and had a crazy look in his eye. I told her she had seen the culprit. She told me that "he was in the cardio area looking at machines like he was angry with them. Like he wanted to make one of them his bitch!" Sounds about right, huh?
Kids, don't do steroids. Work out, and feel good about life, but for the love of California's Governor don't become so vain that you try to have a race and/or flex off with a random person in a 24 Hour Fitness on a random Wednesday. That is ridiculous and I wouldn't mind calling for mandatory vasectomies for such people. We don't need new humans of the same ilk.