Yes I’m talking about this guy at the gym. My gym, while being overcrowded and employing a staff that would rather shove toothpicks under their fingernails than actually help a customer or fix a treadmill, is a very ethnically diverse gym. It’s actually the perfect blend of clientele. Think about every suburban gym you’ve ever seen on TV or in the movies (boxing gyms not included) and that’s what ours looks like (only with broken equipment).
All racial, economic, social and fitness backgrounds are represented. The people at the gym are generally pretty cool, when they’re not hogging the crosstrainers or trying to work out on two pieces of equipment at the same time. Your towel cannot save a bench for 20 minutes unless it also pays dues!
Sorry, I’m getting off track here. Like I said, the people at the gym are generally pretty good people. It’s also usually pretty quiet there. Usually, we just get to workout and bask in the creative genius of gangsta rap. But there are a small group of men who like to hear themselves talk. In fact they like everyone to hear them talk. If you live in the city or ever watched a Cedric the Entertainer movie, you probably already figured out that the group in which I refer to are middle-aged black men.
It doesn’t really bother anyone, they stay in the weight room, so you don’t have to sit and listen to them for very long. Besides, it’s like hanging out in the barber shop from Coming to America.
But there’s this one guy who likes to stick to the cardio equipment. No one talks on the cardio equipment. It’s dead quiet in the cardio room. You could hear Ice T drop a pin in dat hizzie. But this guy talks as if he’s the only one there. Well, he and his buddy.
The guy stays on the crosstrainer gabbing away while his friend stands toady-style next to him going “yup, yup, true dat…” The little friend never gets any exercise. The perils of discipledom, I guess.
I hate it when someone yaks and yaks on the cardio equipment. I should say that I hate it when one person does it. If everyone would do it, fine. I could live with that. Then maybe I could talk to Tanya without feeling like I’m airing dirty laundry. We don’t have a lot of metaphorical dirty laundry, we have real dirty laundry, in fact, I’m wearing some right now. But that’s not my point either.
We need to make a communal decision to talk in the cardio room. That way, we all don’t have to listen to one guy give his opinion on everything. This dude doesn’t care, he likes the audience. I’ve listened to him talk about the presidential elections, ghetto gentrification and today, the basketball brawl in Detroit.
A brawl in Detroit?! No?! Another quality city ruined forever by violence! How will they ever recover their image?!
Anyway, he’s blabbin’ about the fight, his crony’s nodding and going “yup, yup, true dat…” and I’m thinking the exact same thing I always think when I hear this guy opening his big fat mouth, “man…he’s absolutely right!”
It’s uncanny. He hasn’t expressed a single opinion that I didn’t agree with. I never wholeheartedly agree with everything people say. I like to find things wrong. I’m a little sick like that. But not this guy. He’s been on the money about everything. Absolutely everything. He’s like an older, darker version of me.
It’s nice to know that there’s at least one intelligent person in this world. A person that thinks like me. Yes, there’s hope for the world. Don’t worry everyone, me and this guy from then gym will take care of everything! You just sit there and enjoy your new Utopia.
Now, if only he would just shut the hell up every once and a while and at least let his little friend exercise more than just his nodding muscles.
Shhh little sir, right or not, we don’t talk on the cardio equipment...
Fun Fact: The other day I shared with you my love for the HP commercial song “Picturebook.” Well, I have another love. It’s the tune they use to sell St. Joseph aspirin. I get it stuck in my head very easily. Let’s all sing the chorus together, shall we?
Pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pumps your blood. Pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pump pumps your blood.
How could anyone not like that song?!
Again, from the top…!
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