5 People Who Will Annoy You at the Gym

Let's face it: going to the gym isn't a lot of fun (except for those of you who are sick like that). It's time consuming, it's out of the way, and it's just plain hard work. For all of those reasons, it's not surprising to me that many people choose not to even bother. And that's fine. But what puzzles (read: irritates the crap out of) me are those people who come to the gym every day, only to do absolutely nothing. Or worse, seem to consider the bulk of their workout an exercise in pissing everyone else off. Here are the people I would have preferred stayed home.

Cell Phone Guy

This waste of humanity takes the notion of cell phone worship to that higher level reserved only for the douchiest. This man can also be found in your local movie theater, taking calls and texting long after the lights have come down. He is usually a fan of the treadmill. He gets on, sets the speed for a leisurely 2.7, and makes his first call. For the next half hour he will be carrying on a conversation that will make you want to hurl a five pound plate at his head. Don't be surprised if he finds a way to mention his (grossly exaggerated) net worth into the conversation, especially if there are any hot girls around.

"Did I say million? I meant billion."

Stick Guy (Or Girl)

The stick is the exclusive domain of that portion of the population we lovingly call "seniors". It is a white pole around four feet long, and it can be used in one and only one worthless way. You put it on your shoulders, sit on a bench, and proceed to lazily twist your torso left and right. The exercise builds two muscles. My eye rolling muscles, and the reflex muscles of those in the vicinity who have to jump out of the way when Stick Guy gets going. Stay home, recline in your La-Z-Boy for ten repetitions, and wah-lah, you've just doubled your workout effectiveness.

Leg Press Larry

This is perhaps the most common phenomenon in the gym. This guy or girl head over to the leg press machine on legs that look as though they are straining simply to support the individual's own body weight. Rather than throw a couple of 45s on the machine and do some real work, Leg Press Larry loads up the leg press machine with at least four hundred pounds, hunkers into the contraption, and proceeds to give his knees the workout of a lifetime.

Start

Finish

Without the aid of slow motion photography, you will literally be unable to tell if he is moving his legs at all. He finishes up a "set" of 10-12 "reps", and gets the only real workout by putting all of those plates back on the rack.

The Flirt

The Flirt, unlike some of the others on the list, has come to the gym with absolutely no intention of breaking a sweat. Typically identified by the presence of spiky hair and, yes, a fanny pack, the Flirt merely has come to the gym in hopes of talking up the ladies. Occasionally you may see the Flirt sit on a machine or a bench and throw up a few reps, but this is only to mask his true intentions. The Flirt works best by showing unsuspecting females the "correct" way to work out. While this may seem helpful, his ignoring of the old man rocking like a treetop baby on the rowing machine proves he is not an equal opportunity assistant.

Chanel Sales Rep

This elderly lady may be here to work out, and she may not be. What is certain is the fact that she spent two hours prior to coming to the gym soaking in a bathtub full of the raunchiest smelling perfume this side of the animal kingdom. Unless you came to the gym with a pair of oxygen tanks, you will be unable to stand next to her without crumbling to the floor in tears.

One day's worth

What is it about old women? You expect style to go out the window--no woman of 70 is going to bother keeping up with the latest fashions--but why must they wear the worst smelling perfumes on the market? I understand why they wear so much of it--the sense of smell is usually the first one to go. But why is it always awful?

Honorable Mentions: The Grunter/Screamer, The guy who seems to be working out on every machine in the gym simultaneously, Guy Who Can't Put His Weights Back, and Kids.

Killing's As Easy As Breathing

About seven months ago, after watching Sylvester Stallone brutally kill Burmese army officials, rescue missionaries, flex his forearms, and wax poetic on the art of killing Burmese army officials, I decided it was time to join a gym. If Sly could look like that at the age of 60, I could remove myself from the computer for a couple of hours a day to do likewise. (This is, of course, with the full knowledge of some of Stallone's extra-legal tricks he uses to maintain that physique). I decided to try a place called Leisure Square. It is the city rec center, basically, but its gym had served me well as a teenager and I thought it would do so again, at least until I proved that I was serious about sticking with it. Besides, the price was only $100 a year, which really couldn't be beat.

I arrived at Leisure Square, money in hand, ready to begin the training. At the front desk, I was promptly informed that the weight room had burned down. Estimates on its return were sketchy. I decided to look elsewhere.

This search led me to a place called Fit Physique. A modern, well equipped gym that promised a no-strings membership for only $30/month. Golden. My only concern was the relative quiet of my new workout domain. In other words, no one was there. Anytime there are more employees than customers, a business isn't likely to succeed in the long run. This maxim was proven by the end of the month when the gym abruptly closed down and I was once again set free to find another house of muscle.

I had two choices: The Jungle Club, with its $80/month membership plan, or World Gym, which offered the same month for only $45. Seeing as how I just wanted a place to lift weights and do some cardio, not a place to take spinning classes, tan, play racquetball, swim, lay around in a sauna, and play cribbage, I decided on World Gym.

My new palace of pump was perfect. Much larger than Fit Physique, the price was still reasonable, and the steady--but not overpowering--influx of members told me that it was likely to stay around for a while. And so it did. It lasted six months to Fit Physique's one. The place had been open and operating successfully for at least fifteen years prior to my signing up, and it had now sold to new owners. I began to wonder if I was a bad luck curse to gyms everywhere. I expect a thank you note from The Jungle Club any day now.

Anyway, rather than close down, World Gym has now become Longevity Max Fitness, which makes it sound like a place where your money may be no good unless it is produced with a shaky hand out of a coin purse. So far, so good, though. Other than a change of signs, nothing much has changed, and I hope it stays that way. The quest to look like Jay Cutler may continue.