The Seven Archetypes of Annoyance at the Gym

So, in an effort to combat the eating binge that has been the month of November, I have decided to commit to gym outings as much as possible. That way, when I see LLK for Xmas, she will not be forced to see a curly haired Louis Anderson awaiting her.

Not that it will have too dramatic of an impact, nor am I trying to pat myself on the back, but I bring it up because it highlights the all-too familiar archetypes of gym douchery. In no particular order, I present:

THE SEVEN DOUCHES AT THE GYM

1. Jonny Bro Douche
Oh, Jonny Bro Douche, your muscles glean, your hair is perfectly gelled, and your child's medium shirt highlights at least nine reasons for my hatred of you.

Yes, it's impressive that you have a good body and we all see it. Still, can you spare us the show? The purpose of a gym, generally speaking, is- or at least should be- to get in shape and/or stay healthy. And I'm proud that you've put your kinesiology degree (with communication minor) to work. I really am.

What is irksome is Jonny Bro Douche's proclivity to not only spend 4.5 hours working out, but his ability to occupy no fewer than 7 machines at any given time. Yes, I realize that if you don't blast your delts as well as your quads you may loose mass, but let's take it down a peg or seven, please.

2a. Young Slut
Oh, young slut, I really hate you. Like, really hate you. You dawn about 3 pounds of makeup, put on the pinkest thing you can find (typically emblazoned with some trio of Greek letters), and proceed, like Jonny Bro Douche, occupy 3 cardio machines at any given time.

The particularly blood-boiling thing about Young Slut's activities is, however, is that she doesn't actually work on any machine. That would cause sweat, which would in turn mess up her precious appearance. So, in a twisted formula focusing on time spent, Young Slut proceeds to spend 2 hours on a treadmill slowly walking and talking on the phone.

If ever there was a justifiable homicide...

2b. See Young Slut, and add about thirty years, remove pink and add "animal print."

3. Exercise Bullimic
Now, I'm treading thin ice with this one, considering it is a recognized eating disorder.

Still, along the same lines as the others listed that simply take up too much time and space, Exercise Bullimic is simply just dominating the equipment too much. Stop it. You need 30, maybe 45 minutes of solid cardio to feel good about yourself. Not 4 hours. Just stop it.

4. Fatty Do-Nothing
Now, before you grab the sharpest and bluntest object you can find to hurl at me, allow me to defend my seemingly hypocritical description. Yes, I am a large man with plenty of pounds to loose. You might even call me a "man of leisure." Still, when I go to the gym, I have no issues as to why I'm there. I'm there to work, burn calories, and do so efficiently.

Fatty Do-Nothing operates under a different philosophy. In a twisted psychosis, Fatty Do-Nothing believes that simply by showing up, you burn at least 900 calories. They then proceed to take the seated bicycle, set it at level 1, and slowly burn 4 calories per hour.

Again, not to sound hypocritical, but I guess it just really bothers me when people show up to the gym and then proceed to not show up.

5. Armchair Trainer
Again, in the full interest of disclosure, although I try to work out as much as possible, I'm no Adonis, and I'm certainly not doing everything at the max level. Still, I'm no slouch, and I typically have a clue as to what I'm doing. In fact, I don't embark on activities at the gym unless I'm either working with a professional or I feel confident that I'm doing it correctly.

That does not stop Armchair Trainer from butting in, forcing me to take out my earbud, and giving me some pearl of wisdom about how I can get the most from my workout. Again, with the understanding that I won't be in any P90x videos soon, this irritates me. As gregarious as I am, when I go to the gym, I come to workout- by myself. (Unless I'm working out with a friend, which of course I will enjoy the other's company.)

Perhaps most irritating about Armchair Trainer is that they seldom look remotely healthy. So, if you're out there, if you're thinking about giving sage advice to someone who looks like they're enjoying their personal workout, think to yourself: "Am I a professional trainer? If so, am I this gentleman's professional trainer?" If the answer to either question is no, kindly shut the fuck up.

6. Frankie Longnuts
Rounding out my list, and appropriately placed as it is generally the last vision I am bestowed with, is Frankie Longnuts.

Frankie fought in the war (be it 'Nam, Korea, or either of the two fronts), and in a Freudian display of recapitulation, simply loves to be naked. All the time. Taking a shower, taking a schvitz, weighing himself, talking to other Frankies, it's just naked time all the time.

And while I really don't care about nudity in a locker room as a means to an end (getting dressed), the sheer loungieness of Frankie Longnuts, coupled with, well, his long nuts, is a bit much.

So there you have it- my current gym pet peeves. Enjoy your workout everyone!