Friday, November 14, 2008

Argument 3.0

Wife and I seem to be at odds over what time we should be hitting the gym. And no, I haven’t gotten my fat ass there as planned, here, and here, and I’m sure somewhere else but I’m sure you get my point.

The fact of the matter is that I love sleep and the early morning is when I love sleep the most. All warm and snuggy with those sweet dreams of topless women, brilliant I tell you, absolutely brilliant. So the thought of getting ripped out of those sweet, sweet dreams by the screeching alarm clock at 5am just doesn’t twist my crank. But where we have yet to attain that lofty goal of being in debt to no one and being the masters of our own destinies we can’t just roll out of bed and hit the gym at 10am like so many other stay at home mothers. This leaves us with the evenings after work, or what I like to call slime time.

Slime time is the time frame between noon and about 7pm when the gym is packed with those guys that really aren’t there to do anything but watch your crotch, their crotch, everyone’s crotch in the mirror. You know the guys I’m talking about. The ones that are generally found lurking around the free weights, looking like they’re staring at themselves in the mirror when in reality they’re staring at your wife’s crotch while she’s on the kegelsizer thingamajig. Or better yet when some unaware female enters the free weight area and runs through her routine while getting mentally raped by the slimers doing pseudo curls across the way. Don’t get me wrong here, women aren’t the only victims of the mental rape. I’ve seen a fair number of men checking out other men in the same fashion…it’s just creepy.  But I think my absolute favorite is the home boy slimer. You know the one, it’s teen age/twenty something kid that’s there in his best “g” wear of baggy pants hanging around his ass and a tank top with a baseball cap on backwards. I swear the last time I was at the gym it was during slime time and I saw this kid that totally looked like he had just rolled in from his Friday night dressed in those half pant half shorts, you know, the ones that are too long to be shorts but too short to be pants…and his very best homie button down black shirt with ghost flames on it, gold chains and complimentary backwards baseball cap. What was he doing? lifting free weights…yeah…you tell me he’s not there in an effort to score some action. But honestly from the look of the kid the only action he was scoring was the redbull he fingered from the local 7-eleven. Slime time is chalk full of those guys that when trying to pick up women at the gym use that classic line of, “hey, you work out?”

Rocket scientists I tell ya, rocket scientists!

So I guess that leaves me one choice…get my fat ass out of bed and away from those bouncing boobies in my dreams and go to the gym…sucks!

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