10.25.2004
My Gym is So Ghetto...
How ghetto is it?
My gym is so ghetto...that when I watch the people parking their cars, I try to predict if they're coming in to work out or if they're headed into the dive bar next door.
My gym is smack-dab next to one of the dingiest, smokiest, scariest dives in this large city. Sometimes when the wind is right, you can smell the smoke through the walls in the weight room. Good, good stuff. And the placement of the cardio equipment - directly facing a wall of windows on the parking lot - allows for an amazing view of the drunken denizens who stagger in and out of said bar in various states of sobriety. My personal favorite is the drunk who calls for a cab at, say, noon on a Sunday. I was treated to one such spectacle yesterday, as I was pounding through my 46th minute on the treadmill. The cab pulls up, and instead of finding his fare outside, the cabbie has to go into the bar and collect the man. The cabbie exits first, and makes a point to open the door in the back seat that is opposite him. Then the fare staggers out, making a wide, leaning circle around the cab until he finds the open door. Two gymmies were walking out just then, too, and openly stared at the man as he arranged himself in the cab. As if they've never been there before! Whatever, people: going to the gym does not absolve you of your alcohol-related sins. It just builds your stamina for more sins in the future. Ha ha! (At least, that's why I go...)
So this weekend...skipped the Bad Japanese experience. Thankfully. Uncool to skip out, but the thought of watching food sizzle and sweat just inches from my face - oh, it was unbearable. And as predicted, the Estranged Hubby came over Saturday night and we watched Saved. It started out funny and then turned into an after-school special.
We were like, "what happened to the funny?" But I thought that guy from Almost Famous was pretty hot...in a grimy, nerdy, he-probably-listens-to-Pink-Floyd and he's that
high-school-boy-that-you're-not-supposed-to-like kind of way. And instead of having to break out the wok and the fish sauce for him, I was happy when EH brought over a tomato-basil pizza. Genius on a sick stomach. (Not so much.) Oh, but yesterday I watched jon stewart on 60 minutes and then this incredibly dumb movie that i just adored called The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra. It's a spoof on those bad 50's flicks where everyone is completely stiff and the special effects have strings. Kind of like mystery science theater on acid, or really, really stoned.
My gym is so ghetto...that when I watch the people parking their cars, I try to predict if they're coming in to work out or if they're headed into the dive bar next door.
My gym is smack-dab next to one of the dingiest, smokiest, scariest dives in this large city. Sometimes when the wind is right, you can smell the smoke through the walls in the weight room. Good, good stuff. And the placement of the cardio equipment - directly facing a wall of windows on the parking lot - allows for an amazing view of the drunken denizens who stagger in and out of said bar in various states of sobriety. My personal favorite is the drunk who calls for a cab at, say, noon on a Sunday. I was treated to one such spectacle yesterday, as I was pounding through my 46th minute on the treadmill. The cab pulls up, and instead of finding his fare outside, the cabbie has to go into the bar and collect the man. The cabbie exits first, and makes a point to open the door in the back seat that is opposite him. Then the fare staggers out, making a wide, leaning circle around the cab until he finds the open door. Two gymmies were walking out just then, too, and openly stared at the man as he arranged himself in the cab. As if they've never been there before! Whatever, people: going to the gym does not absolve you of your alcohol-related sins. It just builds your stamina for more sins in the future. Ha ha! (At least, that's why I go...)
So this weekend...skipped the Bad Japanese experience. Thankfully. Uncool to skip out, but the thought of watching food sizzle and sweat just inches from my face - oh, it was unbearable. And as predicted, the Estranged Hubby came over Saturday night and we watched Saved. It started out funny and then turned into an after-school special.
We were like, "what happened to the funny?" But I thought that guy from Almost Famous was pretty hot...in a grimy, nerdy, he-probably-listens-to-Pink-Floyd and he's that
high-school-boy-that-you're-not-supposed-to-like kind of way. And instead of having to break out the wok and the fish sauce for him, I was happy when EH brought over a tomato-basil pizza. Genius on a sick stomach. (Not so much.) Oh, but yesterday I watched jon stewart on 60 minutes and then this incredibly dumb movie that i just adored called The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra. It's a spoof on those bad 50's flicks where everyone is completely stiff and the special effects have strings. Kind of like mystery science theater on acid, or really, really stoned.
