There are many posts I see floating around based on people in the bar and the nightmares you’re going to encounter; single or not. I’d like to see an infographic based on the gym douche bags we’re all faced with at any and all gym points of contact. This may be exaggerated in New York compared to some places, but it is New York after all. Here are some of my [least] favorite gym people:
Grunty the Gorilla
Almost always a roided out guy who weighs about 300 pounds. His head looks a bit small on his shoulders, mainly because his neck is sinking into mounds of chemically produced muscle. When you see, or more likely hear this person, he’s doing some basic exercise, such as a crunch. He will be lifting a little bit or no weight at all, but with each movement when a normal person exhales he lets out a grunt. Comparable to someone who is in an unfortunate situation on the toilet or a really excited person in bed. It’s distracting, annoying and kind of disgusting. But Mr. Grunty will keep his grunts up, getting louder when no one looks his way. Remember, for him it’s like a zoo, he’s the gorilla and if we don’t stare at him he’s likely to fling pooh your way. Metaphorically speaking in most cases.
The gays have pretty much taken control of gyms, at least in New York, maybe the straights still hold their ground in the Midwest. Not that it matters, but there is always one extra-gay, gay at the gym. Usually bone thin, fresh our of a tanning-waxing session and ready to not sweat. He may be walking on the treadmill, hanging around a bench press or on the mat doing downward facing bottom stretches. This one can quickly be spotted because of the strut. It take self-control to not laugh, hips moving from side to side with such veracity and conviction you must move if only to ensure a hip bone doesn’t shank you.
Girls are at a disadvantage in the gym. Most the guys there come in an array of shapes from skinny to meat head. Most of the girls are one or the other: Super fit or super not. And not that anyone should feel shame [well some shame should be felt], but there is a certain point at which spandex clothing, even at the gym may not be the most suitable choice. Think about the thigh-master looking machine. When everything on you is skin tight, but the skin inside is really in need of stretch two sizes larger, we can see every nook and cranny. Every one of them. There are also mirrors all around making sure the reflection of your hungry camel junk is evident. No one will say anything, averting their eyes, a few straight guys gawking and you blissfully unaware of your accidental display of lip service.
I can’t say if this happens to girls with older straight men at the gym but I’d assume so. There always seems to be at least one older guy, sometimes attractive and sometimes very much the opposite, that will glare at you. He has no shame, having lived long enough to not give a shit and just directly go after his prey with dagger eyes. You’ll feel uncomfortable and avoid his eyes at all costs, suddenly trying to display how committed to the treadmill you are if only to avoid that moment of eye contact where you know in his head you’re bent over a steam room bench getting plowed.
These are just a few of the many interesting and obnoxious people that make up my gym. I’m sure everyone has their own.