“And now for something completely different.”-Monty Python’s Flying Circus

I’ve been a member of some gym or other all of my adult life, membership being one thing, attendance being another. At the moment I am pretty faithful, and have observed in my current gym, as in others, some universal types one runs across. They include but are not limited to the following.

Super Sweaty Guy:

I am over here on this treadmill killing it, but you? Well you are taking it to that next level. You make me look like I’m just not trying and have LITERALLY made a puddle under you on that Elliptical. A puddle folks. I would seriously love to see an infrared map of your sweat glands, I bet you have double the normal amount. The nurse in me wants to start I.V. fluids on you, the human in me just threw up in my mouth a little. And now you’re done, and you moving on, just leaving it there, like your Mother will be coming along any minute now to clean it up for you. Seriously dude, I have two words for you, or maybe it’s just one, I don’t know? Sweat Band. Move getting one to the top of your priority list. Maybe two.

Conditionally Helpful Guy:

He make rounds of the gym,  happy to interrupt his workout to provide form tips and suggestions, but only to those who fall within a narrow category, i.e. young, cute and female. That older lady who can’t figure out how to turn on the treadmill? He moves right past her. That old dude who is about to decapitate himself with the chest press bar? Well, he’s on his own. But to the young and cute he’s all yours. He is steadfast even though he has to  overcome obstacles such as earbuds and lack of eye contact, but he perseveres. Being as this is the south, he is usually met with tight, forced smiles, polite attention and then attempts to flee. Occasionally he encounters the filter-challenged who, shall we say, offer alternate suggestions of what can be done with his advice. Fortunately for him, his super powers include unsolicited advice and  being impervious to social cues.

Weight Machine Succubus:

Hey buddy? You see me over here standing a polite distance from that machine you’ve been holding hostage for, oh, 10 minutes now? Yeah, I’m talking to you. Another 5 minutes and I will quit hovering and begin my campaign of laser death stares to get you moving. Perhaps you are unaware that weight machines are for EXERCISE purposes only. Additional uses do NOT include:

a. Meditation areas, for staring into space and thinking really deep thoughts, and being sure that you are being observed doing so.

b. Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Snapchat updating/Selfie taking kiosks.

c. Appearance monitoring stations, for flexing and sneaking sidelong glances into the mirrors to be sure you’re still fine.

Keep it moving buddy, we have limited lifespans.

Cleavage Woman:

You are absolutely fit, of that there can be no doubt, and you want us to know it. You are a miracle of spandex, strategically place straps and insecurity. Still, as you go about your workout I live in fear that you are about to blow and rain down breasts on Planet Fitness. I don’t even hit for that team and I can’t quit looking at them, so I know there’s not a guy in this room that could tell me what rep he’s on. You are leaving here with a husband or a respiratory infection, whichever comes first. And as you go in for the dead lift, I hold my breath and pray for “the girls” to stay put, while all around me, men fervently counter pray.