Jibber Jabberer At the Gym and a Totally Unrelated Funny Story

I was at the gym today on the treadmill, and there was a woman next to me talking to someone on the phone while she was working out. Now, this is okay if:

Q: 1. Was it an important call or a business call?

A: Almost certainly not because she was laughing loudly and all the content of the conversation that I overheard was completely meaningless.

Q: Did she at least keep her voice down?

A: Absolutely not. I would have been fine if I had my headphones, but even then the big belly laughs would cut right through the heavy-ass jams I would likely have been playing. Probably something obscure and rocking, like this, a stoner rock band out of Portugal called Sulfer Giant with endless infectious Sabbathesque riffs.



At some point in my frustration at having only the bad gym music and no sports to watch on the television (just the closed captions of guys talking about football) and forced to listen to this lady jabber on, I started getting perhaps a little too critical of her. Now, I really don't like to judge people at the gym for whatever workouts they're doing because who gives a care, right? I know that one time a giant Thor-looking dude, like that blond schmuck from the Packers (sorry, I'm a Bears fan) tapped me on the shoulder (interrupting my beloved rock music for God's sake) to tell me that I was doing an exercise with poor form or something. I know that made me mad, so why am I judging this woman?

(You won't get gains doing it your way, bro. Also, you'll get more volume in your hair if you switch to my dope shampoo. Bro.)

At least she made it into the gym, I tried to tell myself. Perhaps she really hates working out but loves catching up with her homegirl, so she rewards herself with that - and that's what keeps her going to the gym. Maybe that is the case, but couldn't she do that on the ride there or the ride home? And couldn't she at least keep her voice down a little? And here comes me perhaps being a jerk. She was walking the whole time. If you're able to carry friendly banter like that, are you really working hard enough? And keeping her hands on the railing the whole time is really cheating herself.

Well, am I complete gym-bro ass wipe for letting this lady bother me that much?

Hey, here is something totally unrelated. My buddy, Night Train, and I were at a bar the other night, and we ran into one of his old roommates, this great-looking super buff gay guy. We got talking about how this guy dogged out fellas like a lot of men do with women. He would have all different types of guys that he would take home, and more than once he would have a fella come over when he was gone and they would just hang out with us and wait for Buff Roommate to come home. Night Train said one morning he saw one of the hottest women he had ever seen in his life come out of Buff Roommate's bedroom. He told Nigh Train that he mixes up once or twice a year and throws a woman into the mix. Night Train said to me, "God damn this guy! I'm in a slump right now, and he can easily pull the hottest girl out of the bar whenever he wants, and he is gay!?" Oh my God did we ever have a laugh at that one.

Hey, I got to run. Mrs. Noisewater has my 40th birthday celebration planned for me that I have to get ready for, and I have no idea what activities we are doing. Perhaps it will be a blog worthy tale I can share soon. Be well, friends.