April 8, 2010 by Marj Hatzell
My BlogGRL Cecily says I roll my eyes and she thinks it is hysterical and adorable. And that I only do it when it is well-deserved. I used to get in sooooo much trouble for doing that when I was a kid. Let’s just say I was expressive. Ahem. That’s the word. And now I’m punishing my own expressive child for it. I think I’ll rethink the punishment. I think.
Anywho, today there was some WELL-DESERVED eye rolling. I rolled my eyes, but secretly inside my head so no one would see it and think I was a cheeky lady or rude. I went to the gym.
That’s probably all you need to know.
But seriously, I went to the gym. I joined a decent, low-cost place that isn’t one of those muscle gyms. You know the type. Men in teeny tanks to show off how ripped they are (and that they shave their legs and chest hair). Grunting, weights dropping. Girls in skimpy, teensy, tight shorts that leave nothing to the imagination and often show stuff so that you don’t have to imagine it? Yeah, I didn’t want to join one of THOSE. I did that in the past and even though I’m average size and have pretty much been in decent shape my whole life, I still felt inferior (could be my own neurosis, however). In fact, the gym I joined has a no-skimpy-tanks rule. And no men in wife-beaters. And no do-rags (I hate that part because I use do-rags to keep my hair out of my face when I exercise). It’s awesome. Just normal people, normally dressed, working out. No grunting. No weights dropping. Plenty of machines as far as the eye can see. I’m glad I did it. I’ve never felt better.
Except once in a while there is someone who bends the rules ever-so-slightly. Or does stuff that isn’t actually in the rules. Like tanning. This place has tanning rooms. TANNING ROOMS. And the people who use them? OVERUSE THEM. I really want to go up to that extremely blonde girl who has no business being that tan and say, “Sweetheart, when you are my age, fifteen years from now? You are going to look fifty, or like a raisin, or have skin cancer or all three. STOP IT. You don’t look pretty. You look ridiculous.”
Tanning is bad for you. Don’t argue. You are wrong.
But my favs are the GUYS who tan. And they are so tan they are ORANGE. And the backwards caps? STOOPID. Better yet? The over-sized cap with the turned up visor, cocked to the side? MORONIC. And gold chains to work out? Puh-lease.
But the girls, they are even better. Makeup. Hair completely done. To go to the gym and sweat. And work out. What a freaking waste of time. Of course, these are the girls that don’t actually NEED to work out. And they don’t, really. They walk on the treadmill, try to yank their daisy-duke-shorts down and often don’t wear underwear.
How do I know this? I found out THE HARD WAY. I was stretching today. You know, in the area with the big mats where people stretch when they work out? And one girl say across from me. I was doing the butterfly stretch. She was doing the butterfly stretch. And when I picked my head up to move and change positions I got a glimpse.
Of roast beef. And hair.
Seriously, WHISKEY, TANGO, FOXTROT? For the love of Pete, either wear something that is slightly longer on your legs or WEAR SOME PANTIES.
*This public service announcement has been brought to you by HANES AND VICTORIA’S SECRET.