I'm back in Blogland!
Last month, I was at the gym where I work out three times a week - except when I work out two times, or once, a week. I was lying on bench, ready to start lifting eight WHOLE pounds of dumbbells, and these two musclebound gym guys were standing a little too close to me; in fact, they were right above me, and they were talking instead of working out.
One said f*** this, f*** that, every other word. He also said f***ing this, f***ing that. He used f***ing to modify words that don't even need modifiers: "Then I went to the f***ing store and I f***ing saw they didn't have any f***ing Gatorade left, and I was like, f*** this."
Then they moved onto to a more interesting topic, women. The f***ing guy was telling the other guy, who looked a lot like Fred Flintstone, about a woman he met at a party. "Yeah," he said. "She had nice titties."
Titties. Titties. He said "titties." In 2006, in Arlington, Massachusetts. And then he said it again and again. I tried my usual, direct method for dealing with rude behavior; I glared at them. They ignored me. Finally, I stopped lifting weights and just sat up and glared at them. Thankfully, they moved a little farther away, not as a result of my glaring, and continued their scintillating conversation about titties.
Through the din of grunts and clanging weights, I heard Fred Flintstone say, "She's 36..." and I thought "Oh my God; now they are discussing bra size," and I had to restrain myself from going over and banging him on the head with my eight-pound dumbbell. Thank God I didn't, because it turned out the Fred's mind was not in the gutter and he was talking about someone's age.
The whole episode disgusted me so much that I just had to go on a little hiatus from the gym. Besides, I was feeling lazy. I finally went back after a couple of weeks, resolving that, if I ever hear the word "titties" again at the gym, I will have to scream, "Penis, penis, penis!" at them until they shut up.