Like trying to lift the bar after having a failed attempt at bench press without a spotter. Just because you’ve added a tad too much weight as a result of feeling much younger than the middle-age you are, only to realise that feeling younger doesn’t necessarily constitutes being younger. Not like that’s ever happened to me. I’m just saying one might be pressurised to stretch yourself when all the people around you are so fittin’ buff.
There is this gym I go to. A lovely airconditioned venue with a pool and machines and everything. A wonderful place where crazy people like me, choose to put their bodies through all types of torture. We even pay a monthly membership to be able to do so. It’s like that place Tom Cruise stumbled upon in “Eyes wide shut” but without the masks. And the sex. And the hot woman. It’s basically not like that place at all, if only for the excess bodily fluid.
Many other people attend the same gym, which goes to show that you’re never the only stupid person in a room. There’s a whole community of crazies just waiting to be discovered. Gym members come in all shapes and sizes, but at the beginning of the year, there are mostly round ones. As the year runs its course, the round ones disappear. Some of them turn into thin ones, but when winter arrives and bitch-slap you with her icy palm, those who couldn’t turn in time, just drop off and disappear. Another fatty and their new year resolution down the proverbial drain.
This gym that I love to go to, has a parking area. A place where you can park your vehicle in an orderly fashion, as we don’t have a log where we can tie our horses down. Most of us have stopped using horses for transport anyhow. Having a parking area allows for easier manouvering of other cars that would be arriving at different times of the day. And if you’re lucky enough NOT to have a life and you attend gym at five in the mornig, then there is never a real concern about getting a parking space. Fortunately there is a limit on the amount of crazy people that needs to be institutionalised. They all leave at six-thirty.
Parking your car doesn’t require any specific skill other than having the ability to drive a car. There’s nothing complicated about the exercise, nor about the design of a parking area. In most cases white lines are drawn on the tar so that it allows everyone to see where they should stop the vehicle. It’s really, really simple. Just keep it between the lines. These lines are normally wide enough, even for woman, but if they’re not, then you are parked in the space that is reserved for motorcycles. I suggest you move your car immediately, unless you want that vehicle handed to you through your ass by an irate biker. And if you think that the biggest parking space, closest to the door, the one with the blue sign, was left especially for you because you are so awesome and have done humanity a favour for just simply existing, then you’re in the disabled parking and should also move, you inconsiderate piece of shit.
But when there are NO lines drawn on the tar in a parking area, then that implies that it is the designated area for other cars to move, or as it is more commonly known, the fucking road!
When a person decides to drive their car to a gym, I would think the main reason for doing so would be to get some exercise. It’s not like we come here every day to get a slice of pizza, now do we? We actually arrive with a motivated spirit to rid our fat butts of the calories we consumed for NOT having the willpower to say no to that motherfu… slice. I’m not here to talk about my own weakness or lack of willpower. That’s a different post.
My purpose on this, oh so lovely morning, would be to ask why on this water-invested-blue-ball-of-a-planet would the fat chick park her car right in front of the door to the gym, when there are ample spaces scattered around the parking area? I know it’s closer where you choose to park as it is right next to the entrance; and yes, I understand that parking your car where the rest of us do, would require you to waggle all the way to the door, but are you seriously kidding me?
Let me rephrase: Why would you attempt running on a treadmill, all jiggling and sweating and panting for an hour, but you don’t have the energy to walk the 20 steps from where your car is suppose to be? Do you realise that your refusal to conform to the accepted practise of where to park a car, has caused people, like me, to navigate AROUND your car in order to get to the door of the gym?
Are you a special kind of lazy or a special kind of stupid? Please enlighten me.
One of these days I’ll be fit enough and still have enough energy after my session to confront you on this little issue. I will also have the strength to rip your arm off and use it as a bat to beat the crap out of you. As I’m nowhere near that place in my fitness regime, I’m just going to rant over here for a while.
Just consider yourself warned.
Unless of course I’m wrong and the car belongs to that big dude with arms the size of Saturn’s rings, then I sincerely apologize for my lack of vision for what you have achieved and you can park your car in any f*cking place you want…for I most certainly are not going to do anything about it…