Thursday, 26 April 2007


As you may have read earlier, I try my hardest to get to the gym. When I can be arsed.

I dream of a set of abs tight enough to grate cheese on, arms that Popeye would be envious of, a chest that would need doorways to be widened to allow me to pass through.

In reality, my abs are hidden under an ever increasing podgy belly, arms that even Olive Oyl would snigger at and a chest that's more sparrow than Schwarzenneger.

Nevertheless, I persist. However, it seems to me that all rules regarding politeness and manners seem to go out the window as soon as you enter the house of pain.

For example, I'm actually surprised that I haven't yet caught any kind of fungal infection from other folk who use equipment in there, then wander off without wiping down, leaving a gloriously glistening damp patch on the seat that my rear end is about to advance on.

Then, there's the grunting. In any normal situation, a man (and more women now I've noticed too) groaning and roaring like a lot of them in there do would raise a few eyebrows. But, no. In there, you can be as loud as you want and no-one bats an eyelid. Except me. I'm always fascinated by the people making that much noise.

They also pull unattractive faces as they do their lifting. I often wonder if that's their sex face too.

Today, though, I encountered a new phenomenon. I was getting changed after a bit of a workout (I'd much rather have watched Deal Or No Deal) and was getting my bits from the locker I was occupying. As I was kneeling down, a middle aged gentleman then approached and opened the locker directly above mine.

As he started to get his things out, something fell to the floor from his locker. Now, in any other circumstances, I'd have picked it up and offered it back to the person who'd dropped it. Dummy - here you go little chap. Papers - there you are, busy office person. Glove - don't want to lose that, it's chilly today.

He'd dropped his underpants.

Now, call me rude, but I didn't even offer. I took a quick glance, realised what they were and looked away. I shouldn't have done that. By looking away, I turned to face his flacid penis in my face.

I suppose that's a lesson for us all. Always be kind and considerate to others, or else you too could end up with a floppy willy waving at you.


Jag said...

Wow, shocking! I am not a gym person myself but this story is so funny!

A Simple Man said...

I'm glad you chuckle Jag but, for me, it was certainly a shock.

You don't expect to see meat and two veg dangling three inches from your face in any circumstances. I still feel rather scarred by the whole sordid event.

Jag said...

Yes, despite the chuckle, I am empathic.

Anonymous said...

Not a nice story!
Had a similar experience myself in the gym. However, this time it involved an elderly women. She had just been in the pol & let's just say... she had not had a Brazilian in a few DECADES!!