air monkeys and frat boys.

FIRSTBLOG!FIRSTBLOG!FIRSTBLOG! Hello blogging world! You look…exactly like my computer? This is very anti-climatic.

Last night I went to the gym. I always forget that I hate the gym. I’d like to be one of those people who love the gym, refuse the bread basket, and religiously watch Dateline. But sadly, I am not.

I think I hate the gym because of how gassy it makes me (along with bananas, veggie platters, milk, stress, and movies with Nicholas Cage). Undoubtedly every time I set my Nike’d size 8.5 feet on the Godforsaken elliptical, things begin to go awry.

The gym I go to is set up where the treadmills are at the front of the building, followed by the ellipticals, then, at the back of the room, the weights for the weak. Everyone who goes there is about 173 years young, so I usually feel pretty shameless.

However, on one rare occasion there was a good looking-ish guy  lifting weights. He was using the shoulder-strengthening-lifter-thing directly behind me and at first I thought this was to my advantage. He looked like a hybrid of Ashton Kutcher and Phoebe Buffay-Hannigan. He was also sporting a cutoff shirt and a hat(at the gym?), clearly an ex-frat goer, so I obviously thought he would be checking out my ever-growing whoopee cakes.

So, wanting to impress this stand-up guy, I began to elliptical my hardest. Sweat, blood, tears, and toots began to fly. None of which was unexpected. I worried not because, like everyone else in the gym, I figured he would have headphones on(jamming to Eminem or Joan Jett, obviously) and would not hear my air monkeys, only smell. However when I turned around to see how he was enjoying the sight of my whoopee cakes dancing at high speeds, I was thoroughly disappointed/embarrassed/proud? to see that the only thing he was enjoying was his fingers pinching his nose. He was not jamming to Eminem, nor Joan Jett. But he was laughing at me.

I then decided that five minutes on the elliptical was enough exercise for another…10-12 days and drove home, jamming to Eminem and Joan Jett.

That’s what you get for wearing a hat  at the gym, fratboy!

Happy trails till we meet again!

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One response

  1. first thing I’d like to point out is the “love(meh…)” comment in your title. All I can really say to that is, GET OUT BROOKE! Secondly, I really love the way you ended this blog…happy trails…mahahha.

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