Grandma’s bomb

As a follow up to the previous post, I came on today to finalize the story I promised about my grandmother, so if you are reading this one before the last, you should skip down right now to the previous story as to not read the end of the story before the beginning.  I think they call that a spoiler alert even thought I didn’t really get too far in the story to begin with. 

It’s snowing out again.  The weather people have said this will go down as the harshest December from a snow/temp standpoint on record.  It will be fun this evening trying to dig our third car out of the snow.  It hasn’t been moved since the snow started falling due to the snow removal company virtually shovelling it in.  I took pictures.  Where we park our car, it can only be backed out.  It’s hard to describe, but by the time I had come home a few nights ago, there was a 9 foot tall mountain of snow not only blocking our car in but also the neighbors.  So tonight I get to begin my quest of unsnowing this car so we can park it in the garage while we are out of town for the next week and a half.  I went out last night and bought a shovel and I was quite surprised to find out that of the three places I went, I couldn’t find one single metal shovel.  Only Plastic.  For the amount of snow that I will be moving, I hope a plastic shovel works.  I also home that I don’t have a heart attack of the variety that you read about each year.  “32 year old collapses and dies while shoveling snow”.   I have to expect with the 10 more inches they are calling for today that it might be possible that I will be unable to get it out.  I haven’t shoveled in a few years, so I will be interested to see how I hold up. 

…i’m stalling on the story…

So, two more days and I will be out of this cold frigid arctic tundra that we call Chicagoland. I can’t wait.  Arizona and Las Vegas will be fun.

…get with the story already…

So, without further ado (I don’t really know what that means) I give you the most disturbing conversation that I have ever had with a family member…

(names have been changed in this story to protect those individuals from what I have no idea)

The background on this story goes like this:  I was talking with my grandmother on the phone and discussing our holiday travels when the conversation turned to my cousin Mary.  So Mary is 22 now and I have known her to be a sweet innocent albeit chunky girl my whole life.  Lately I have noticed some changes.  She has been taking on the form of a boy.  I thought nothing of it since I have several girl cousins that are all tom boys.  So this past visit with my cousin I noticed a tattoo on her wrist.  It was of a heart filled in with the colors of the rainbow.  My wife noticed the same thing and it became obvious to us that my cousin is now a lesbian.  The icing on the cake was overhearing one of our 7 year old distant cousins ask my aunt (not Mary’s mother) if Mary was a boy or a girl.  I would have fittingly used the name Pat in this story, but I could not since I do have a cousin named Pat as well.  But I digress…

So, while talking with my grandmother, she announced to me that my cousin Mary was arrested this past week for stealing drugs out of the Walgreens that she worked in.   She was a pharmaceutical tech studying to become a full on pharmacist, but I doubt that can happen now.  They charged her with theft, and possession of drugs with intent to deliver.  My grandmother had no idea what type of drugs she was taking, but I have to believe that maybe they were the drugs needed to make Meth to which if that’s the case, we might see Mary go bye bye for a while. 

Upon hearing this news, I said “I’m not completely shocked since I have noticed some changes in Mary recently…”

“Oh…what changes are those?”  My grandmother asked.

“Do you  really want to know Grandma?” 

“Yes…I do.” 

“Have you seen the tattoo that Mary has on her wrist?” I asked.

“No,  I haven’t.” 

“It’s of a heart filled in with a rainbow.”  “Being from the Chicago area, I have seen similar tatoo’s and outward signs that represent being gay.”  “That is most defintely an outward indication that she has become a lesbian.”  I hesitantly told my grandmother.  I continued, “Haven’t you noticed that she has taken on the appearance of a boy with the clothes she wears and the way she cuts her hair now?” 

“Yes, I have noticed.”  “I have always told your aunt Brenda and your uncle Don to quit dressing the girls like they were boys.”  “I can’t stand that.” 

My grandmother continued, “Your uncle Don had told me in the past that Mary had mentioned about messing around with women.  I don’t believe that you are born that way, I think it’s a choice you make as you get older.  Everyone growing up is faced with thoughts about the same sex and experiment.  I even experimented with other girls growing up but I always thought about boys when I was doing it.”  (it was at this point that I began dry heaving into my phone)

“What was that grandma?” I asked as if I mis heard every thing she just said. 

“We all experiment and have unnatural thoughts, so I just hope this is the experimental phases for Mary and that she is thinking about Boys like I did.”  It was at this point that I don’t really remember the rest of the conversation.  She sounded like a school teacher in a Charlie Brown cartoon because I was pressing the Ctrl, Alt, Delete keys in my brain searching for a time in my memory before I heard what I just had to safely go back to.  In hindsight, my grandmother does say some off the wall comments from memory where my grandfather will look at her like she’s crazy.  I have to wonder if he could have heard what she said if he would have given her that look.  This is proof once again that I was actually dropped off on my mom and dad’s doorstep after birth. 

So, upon hanging up the phone, I immediately called my wife to tell her the story and ask if it was indeed true that all girls go through that phase.  I waited for my wife to confess but I got nothing.  “Maybe you aren’t there yet.”  “You wish”  was pretty much her reply.

Have a safe and happy holiday season.  Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kawnza, Winter Solstice, Birth of the Baby Jesus, and whatever else you can call it.  I have another funny fat coworker girl in training class with me story but i’ll save that for later.  If anything happens in Arizona/Vegas while I am traveling I’ll put it up.

Filed under: Christmas, Grandma, Lesbian, New Year, barf, creepy, puke, scared, train wreck, weird

Obama on the brain

Much has happened in the last 48 hours.  Not only do we have a newly elected president, but also our first african american president.  How exciting.  I have all sorts of thoughts running around my brain about this newly elected official, so I am going to spew them about as fast as possible. 

1.  Right now all of the news outlets are discussing who he is taking to Washington with him.  Rahm Emmanuel as his Chief of Staff.  All sorts of local Chicago suck up’s have (Not Emmanuel because I have never met the man and he intimidates the shit out of me) hit the jackpot now that their guy Obama has been elected.  I feel as if it’s a “The Jeffersons” tv show and everyone is movin on up to the east side (Whitehouse) since they finally got a piece of the pie. 

Amongst all of the people that are moving to Washington, I was waiting for the news to show a picture of me and announce “Dennis will be moving to Washington to be Barack’s official balloon twister to entertain the Obama children hours on end…”  One can dream, can’t he?

2.  Why does it always have to be about the black man?  The first black NFL football coach to win the Superbowl.  The first black President.  Why can’t it be “The first white coach to lose to a black coach in the Superbowl” or “The first white Presidential candidate to lose to a black Presidential candidate.”  Not that I really care either way.  Just sayin.

3. I am miffed slightly about my vote.  For president, as a republican and Catholic, my vote doesn’t count in the state of Illinois.  For all the other elections, it is loud and clear.  I still have issues with the whole electoral college bit, but being in Obama’s back yard hurts when I am not a supporter.  I pray that he is the second coming as the Democratic party has touted him to be, even though he is by far the least religious President based on his stance and voting history in regards to abortion and homosexuality among other religious political topics.  I won’t go down that road, but if you have time, I dare you to read about his voting history and stance on abortion, partial birth abortion, and the Born Alive Infants Protection Act that failed almost single handedly thanks to Barack Obama.  Google “why Jesus would not vote for Barack” and it makes for an interesting read.   

Outside of his views on abortion, I really like the guy.  Just because I didn’t vote for him doesn’t mean that I don’t have high hopes.  I think this country will be great with him at the helm and it will be a great story for the next four years. 

4. Piggy backing on the last post, Biden has hair plugs.  I don’t know why that’s funny to me, but it is.  Any time you can tell when someone had plugs, I giggle a little.  Insecurity about hair, or lack thereof, is funny to me. 

5. I will miss Sarah Palin as will many men in the US. 

This picture would be so much better if she was in one of those nurses outfits…

Here’s to hoping she makes a run for anything that puts her in the public spotlight on a frequent basis with those business suits and glasses sooner rather than later. 

I have other thoughts, but things keep flying in and out of my brain.

For the first time as a home owner, a neighbor is moving away.  Not only is a neighbor moving away, but a pot smoking, dog barking & pooping, child car stealing, no babysitting, fatty laying in the pool, flat tire car, ghetoo police arriving neighbor has moved away.  I almost did cartwheels when I saw the moving truck. Let me quickly explain each of my observations:

pot smoking: One of the many people that lived there or visited often had an older teenage boy. He would hide on the side of his car sitting in the grass at night only in view of my living room window and smoke weed.  I watched him several times.  It was funny to witness his name being called and to see how he would freak out and quickly hide the weed while he would jump up and run inside only to run back out and quickly finish it.  I debated about running out and quickly hiding it and having him come out and look around like a retard.  I could have called the police, but it was more entertaining to watch. 

dog barking & pooping:  They had these twin white poodles that would walk bark and shit everywhere.  We have rules about that in our neighborhood, and like Chuck Norris, they were above the law. 

child car stealing:  My wife watched one day as a four year old mohawked haired boy walked outside, with car keys, and proceeded to get in their van.  The four year old put the keys in the ignition and my wife watched as he started the car.  Being the kindergarten teacher that my wife is, she immediately ran out of the house and took the keys out of the cars ignition.  She knocked on the door and a grandmother answered ”wondering where the little shit went to”.  Not a single thank you to my wife.  The kid could have driven through our house.   

no babysitting:  See child car stealing above

fatty laying in the pool:  Each of the women were pushing 250 to 300lbs each.  I know, I weight close to that, and any one of the women could easily give me a beat down at the buffet line.  During the summer, all the fatties would bring their little kids out and the moms would lay in their bathing suits in the child’s inflatable pool while the kids played.  It was a very difficult thing to watch and I recalled fighting back my gag reflex on several occasions.  Let’s just say that the blinds were left down a lot this summer.   

flat tire car: They had a car parked for a good four months with a flat tire.  Once again above the neighborhood law.   

ghetoo police arriving:  I have no idea why since the police would only respone by saying “please move on sir, everything has been handled”.  I never saw a body carted out, so I assume it was a domestic incident of some sort.   

When we bought out in Round Lake in a beautiful subdivision, we thought we had moved away from the ghetto that we once lived in only to be welcomed by this neighbor.  They are gone now, so life is a little bit better in the hood.

Filed under: Barack Obama, Fatty, Ghetto, Vote, creepy, moving, stupid, trailer, weird

Did he say fattie?

Last Friday was a most interesting one as the wife and I attended the wedding and reception of a couple from our church.  Typically Friday nights are the night I twist balloons from 6-8:30pm, so this was a refreshing change of pace for me having a Friday night off.  So at the reception we were seated with other people from church including the Priest.  Knowing everyone very well, we had a blast, and actually had probably a bit too much fun because certain people put down their guard and revealed a little too much about themselves in front of us.  The highlight of the reception was walking up to the bar and seeing our church deacon with a big tray of drinks in front of him.  I asked him what he was getting and he looked down at the tray.  I proceeded to ask if he was getting the table glasses of white wine to which he replied, “these are shots”.  After 2 minutes of me calling his bull shit, he arrived back at our table with a round of shots for everyone. 

I will gladly admit that I didn’t get the shot train moving, an ordained chuch member did, but I wasn’t about to let the shot train slow down.  After a few more, the reception was winding down, I hit the jackpot when I mentioned the words “piano bar”.  Apparently the words “piano bar” make tipsy women (my wife included) want to continue drinking to the wee hours of the morning.  I had no idea.   So it was on like donkey kong.  At 11:30 our entire table (minus the priest) ditched the reception and headed down to a piano bar.  I believe our group would have likely been voted “table least likely to continue the party after the reception” if there was such a thing. 

We settled in at the piano bar and appetizers and shots started coming.  We must have crossed someone’s drunk threshold because that is when the guard was dropped.  TMI was the general theme from that point on in the evening, and I could only sit back listening to the train wrecks unfold and reminding myself to just shut up and listen as each was served up with an audible gasp that could be heard after each bomb was dropped.  The bottom fell out when after offering a couple a ride home that had way too much to drink, I was offered a “fattie blunt” as a thank you. Not quite what I had in mind going into the evening. 

Oriental women think I am a movie star.  I don’t know why, because I wasn’t even going to write it down for fear of backlash since I look in now way like a movie star.  Prior to the wedding, my wife wanted to get a manicure and a pedicure.  So I dropped her off.  When I came back to get her I went in and talked to her a few moments when I discovered that she would still be another 30 minutes. I was wearing a pretty sharp dress suit, but nothing fancy beyond that.  I left again to return a half hour later.  As we drove away, my wife told me that the women running the salon wanted to know what I do.  When she asked why, they proceeded to ask if I was a “movie star” to which she said she couldn’t stop laughing for five minutes. 

Staying on the church theme, I had one of the more unusual things happen during Mass yeaterday.  As my wife and I were standing in the back one of the ushers that we knew walked over to us and shook my hand and proceeded to make two fast kiss noises as he moved in on my wife to give her a hug as to say “I’m coming in for a kiss.”  It was the most inappropriate move ever played in a church and had we been outside of the church I would have followed it up with a verbal barrage of “what the hell was that” directly to the kisser.  I am not normally a direct conflict type of guy, but he was way out of line since he left my wife feeling very uncomfortable.  To prevent burning any bridges, I am going to forget that it ever happened unless I am witness to a second occurence in which I am sure God will forgive me for threatening him bodily harm if he ever attempts to lay his lips on my wife again.   As a sidenote, my wife is free to let whatever guy friends she has to kiss her on the cheek.  I kiss wives and girlfriends of my close friends on the cheek.  But I would never do something so bold with a woman I know only through church.  Freak. 

After church we thought it would be a nice day to go pick pumpkins at Goeberts Farm, and I’ll have to dig into that one later since that is a long one in itself and I am out of time.

Filed under: Church, bitchy, creepy, drunk, weekend, weird, wife

A funny thing happened on the way to the city

My day today has been full of work meetings combined with a much needed trip downtown to pick up what I have come to learn is an elusive object.   I have always known that I have a big head.  It has only been an inconvenience when trying to buy fitted baseball caps since the largest size I am able to find is usually one size too small for my nogin.   A month ago I was booked to twist balloons for a candy company that I won’t name, but can say that there have been two movies (one older and a newer remake) made about this candy company.  www.iloveballoonanimals.com

So, the interesting thing about this booking is that I am not allowed to wear my typical “Cubs” garb as I normally do when twisting balloons.  This company is requiring that I and the other woman that is entertaining with me to be in “character” or “clown”.  The big problem is that I am not a clown, nor have I ever been such.  Having a not so great history of being a fan of clowns, this whole thing will be a very interesting experience.  So, this Saturday morning, I will be unveiling “Dapper”.  My new clown persona. 

Dapper spawns from the fact that I am going to try and be as non creepy as possible.  I will be wearing tuxedo pants, colorful shirt, home made balloon cuff links, Black suspenders, a balloon bow tie,  a top hat with a balloon flower on it, and just a bit of make up on the face.  It should be good enough to pass as a clown without being a real clown.  I will have to post photos once I have them for feed back. 

Wow…what happened…back to my oversized melon.  During my quest for a top hat, it has come to my attention that I have the largest head there is.  24″.  I don’t think that means I am extra smart, but I can say it has been a burden trying to locate a top hat that fits my brain.  After seriously two weeks of searching, I was only able to locate one in the ENTIRE Chicagoland area.  So on my drive down to city to pick up the ten gallon sized top hat, I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed two women sitting side by side in an SUV right behind me.  We were in stop and go traffic on 94 heading south, when I looked up again a few moments later to hear honking and men screaming out the window.  As I looked at the car, I noticed that the two women behind me were kissing, causing a serious amount of traffic to come to a standstill since it appears that the men in the cars to the left and right were all cheering them on.  With the traffic in front of me moving a long, who was I to miss out on the fun, so for a good 30 seconds, these two women in all of their lesbian fun, caused traffic to a halt entirely over a kiss.  The funniest part was seeing all of the guys look at each other in amazement over what was happening.  It fell just short of guys getting out of their cars to high five one another. 

I finally started moving, and they followed, and over the next 5 miles, at every single stop in traffic, they would start making out again causing many to honk and cheer in approval.  The weird thing was that they didn’t fit any girl on girl stereotype what so ever, which is what really brought on the cheers.  It definitely made slow traffic on the toll way as bearable as it has ever been.  I turned on the radio to hear a traffic report.  I thought they might mention a delay in our section of the toll way and what the reason might be. 
“We have a gapers delay on the Eden’s from skokie rd down to the junction with reports of guys cheering on lesbians who are making out.”  I hope to hear that, but had no such luck.

Eventually I had to exit against my better judgement.  I could have continued as the grand marshall of the lesbian parade, but since it was a trip during the workday, I chose to not continue since I had no idea how far this parade might go on.

Filed under: Car, balloon, boredom, confused, creepy, free porn, weird, work

No rest for the weary

I did it.  I did it.  I did it.  I didn’t think I could but I did.  As recently as this past Monday I argued with myself mentally as I had for the past 5 months about what excuses I could create to get out of doing the four school assemblies.   Unfortunately, I couldn’t come up with any sort of illness complex enough that could prevent me from twisting balloons and talking at the same time.  Even if I did come down with some sort of unworldly strain of the hiv. 

The illness is stagefright.  Which translates in English as being a pussy.  4 shows in two days in front of a total of 2400 children.  That, to me, is as scary as it gets. 

So now I have this ridiculous sense of accomplishment.  Unlike anything I have ever experienced. 

Here are a few funny stories from the past two days:

1.  Yesterday at the third school, I was asked by no less than 4 different school staff if I would be wearing a mask in any way.  First of all, why is it so hard to believe that someone can twist balloons that isn’t a clown?  Secondly, who twists balloons while wearing a mask? 

What I didn’t know was that the question originated from the same assembly the year before. The Village paid money to have an authentic spider man come in.   Click here for the page where grant money was offered to help pay for spiderman.  Anywho, at last years assembly, the moment spiderman came walking in, this boy high tailed it out of there like a bat out of hell screaming and crying along the way.  Now the school has a “no mask” policy thanks to Spiderman. 

2.  While walking around with the microphone at one of the schools asking the children for some ideas that they could come up with on train safety, a little boy’s response went like this:  “Yesterday a boy got hit by a train and his brains went everywhere…”  Followed by an “ewwww” from all the children around him.  It was at that moment that I knew it was smart that I would hear the answer and then repeat it myself into the microphone for all to hear.

3. At the first school, it didn’t dawn on me that they layer the children from kindergarten up front to 5th grade in the back so that the smallest are the closest.  Whenever I would ask a question and I would go to the children closest to me, I would have a child say something totally off point.  One kindergartener I asked for an answer from thought it would be great to stand up and talk about her mom and helmets and her cat and all sorts of stuff and I didn’t know what to do.  The child wouldn’t stop talking.  The teachers began laughing and I just stood there waiting for her to finish so we could move on with the assembly.  I bet she rambled for a good 2 minutes before she finally sat down. 

Well that’s it.  I have more on my mind but not enough time.  Big night tonight.  My billiards team made it to the championships of our local league and we need to step up and defend our crown. 

Filed under: balloon, balls, creepy, stupid, weird, work

Have you ever had water in your basement?

I was asked this question by my manager last Friday night.  Let me tell a quick back story before I get into mine. 

One of my managers had the major plumbing pipe rupture in his crawlspace causing what he explained to be a river of 13″ deep shit in his shoulder high crawlspace.  The crawlspace is almost as big as the entire house and was the result of a 40 person party that he had hosted where the amount of sewage usage caused his sewage pipe to clog near the sewer backing everthing up that had been sent down the pipe from this huge party, braking pipes and filling the crawlspace with nothing but nastiness.  Add that with every drop of water from the dishwasher/showers/washing machines and you have a soapy river of shit, none the less.  He had joked last week about having to call in a Hazmat team.  It may have not been a Hazmat team, but anyone that has to go into a home to remove a river of soapy shit could be called such. 

While leaving the office on Friday, I asked my manager how the removal process went, and he asked me the question, “Have you ever had water in your basement?”  This simple little question launched me back to many childhood memories.  One or two of which I have to explain since thinking back at my ripe age of 31 made me realized just how fucked up it was.  Try and bear with me while I type out my weird memories as a child. 

“Yes…now that I think about it, I did live in a house with water in the basement” was my answer. 

I went on to explain that when I was in 6th grade my mother had moved myself, my older brother and my younger brother into a house in Lincoln, IL.  This was the fifth house we had lived in during my 6th grade year of school. 

This house was right on 5th street.  One of the main drags of Lincoln if there is such a thing.  I recall that the house did have water in the basement.  At the time, being 12 and all, having water in the basement didn’t seem like such a big deal.  I never understood why we had water in the basement.  But at all times, there was at least a good 12-18 inches depending on rainfall.  Sometimes it would swell upwards to 2-3 feet.  I could open the basement door and judge how high the water was based on the number of stairs that was covered in water.  Usually the second to last stair would be right at the water level.  Sometimes when it was raining the fourth and fifth stair would be covered.  I wasn’t allowed to go down there.  But I did. 

At the top of the stairs was two different pairs of thigh high rubber boots that the landlord would wear when he would go downstairs.  The weird thing was that many of the basement level windows had cracks or were broken.  The funniest thing is that we had creatures that lived in the water.  You could see tadpoles swimming around.  Frogs eventually developed in the basement.  As I thought back, I remember thinking how cool it was to be able to open the door to the basement and see rows of frogs chilling on the steps.  I would take one step onto the wooden steps and all of them would go leaping into the water to swim away.  I remember thinking that maybe when I went fishing that I could bring home the fish I caught and let them live in my basement with the frogs. 

The basement was filled with old jarred food.  Someone who had lived in the home at some point was into pickling vegetables and fruits.  It all looked gross to me. 

Once my mother had me go down there with her in the dark.  I held the flashlight while she was changing fuses in the electrical box.  Wow.  There is nothing like standing in knee high water while swapping out fuses in the electrical box. 

One other time, and this is my favorite, my mother and I went down to try and see why the sump pump wasn’t removing the water.  We both put on a set of boots and waded our way to the other end of the basement.  The sump pump was a good 6-8 inches covered with water, so my mother had to reach down to fiddle with the electrical cord.  Something happened and bubbles started coming out of the sump pump.  As the bubbles hit the top of the water, smoke came out of the bubbles, meaning something bad was about to happen.  My mother looked at me, and as if she said it in slow motion, screamed “RUUUUUUNNNNNN!” with the most horrific look on her face.  By the time I had a chance to react she was already on her way back to the stairs.  As I turned around and began to run as fast as I could in knee high water, I failed to notice the 6 inch wide rusted ceiling support and I ran straight into the pole head first, causing it to knock me nearly unconscious.  I fell straight backwards into the water.  For the first time I had been dunked in the basement water.  My mother came back and grabbed me to pull me to safety.  Apparently she thought that we could outrun being electricuted by the sump pump.  I had a nice little bump right in the middle of my forehead for a good week to remind me why it’s not a good idea to go down into the basement. 

We moved out of the house not long after that.  I don’t know if it had anything to do with the pond in our basement. 

Man, I had a fucked up childhood.  I don’t know if I know anyone that had wild frogs living in their basement. 

Filed under: confused, creepy, fish, memories, stupid, train wreck, weird, work

Do I smell?

That is a genuine question that I had to ask myself last night at the gym.  It become comical after a while. Let me explain…

I am now feeling much better.  I am over the Bronchitis thing, although I can still be heard around the office ridding myself of flemmy substances that seem to have hung around or is the aftermath of a bronchitis infection.  I think I should stop taking the antibiotics and save the remainder for the next time that I come down with this, but my wife disagrees.  Why use them all when I am feeling better and have enough still to get me through the next meeting of good vs. evil germ warfare? 

Anywho, I decided to get back on the horse in regards to my weight loss regimen.  I restarted my food diet, and went back to the gym last night.  I hit the weights hard and got in quite a workout.  I have become annoyed because the physical trainers are now on some sort of membership drive where they will interrupt your workout to ask if I personally know anyone looking to join a gym.  I was asked that question by no less than 3 different trainers last night.  There must be some sort of commission out right now for recruiting.  It’s quite annoying, really. 

After I was done with weights, I moved on to cardio and was on an elliptical machine.  After about a5 minutes, a girl walked up and got on the machine next to me.  It’s nice to have a girl get on a machine next to you because usually they smell very nice and you can’t help but catch the fresh smell that they bring to their space.  (that sounded pretty creepy, I know)  After a minute she stopped and got off the machine.  She walked down to the end of the row and got on another machine and continued her work out. 

5 minutes later, another girl walked up and got on the machine.  She made it a few minutes before quitting and moving to another machine far away. 

Another few minutes go by and someone else comes up to the machine.  This time it’s a guy.  He stays with it for less than a minute before moving on.  I immediately started laughing wondering what on earth is driving them away.  I am sweating, but I can’t smell that bad.  I secretly slowed down and tried to breath in the air around me.  I did a quick breath check and all seemed normal. 

Finally another girl came up to the machine, and sure enough, she stopped and left.  She moved to the machine on the other side of me, which told me that it wasn’t me.  I looked over at her and asked why she switched machines since 5 others had done the same.  She responed with the fact that the computer on the machine kept saying “error” when you would try and choose a workout routine.  “Ahhh, that’s why…” I responded.  And I honestly thought it was me that was driving everyone away. 

Knowing that one of the physical trainers was approaching me yesterday, I intentionally messed with his mind. 

On each cardio machine, there is a 15″ LCD television that allows you to watch whatever channel you want.  Built into the system is a closed circuit channel where you can watch your child in the gym day care center on one of two different camera angles.  As the trainer approaced me, I flipped to the day care room channel.  As he talked to me about knowing anyone who might want to join, he noticed what channel I was watching.  He asked which child was mine trying to develop chatter, and it came to a screeching halt when I answered, “none…I don’t have children…” He stammered and went on with his scripted questions scrolled out on his clipboard eluding to me asking family and friends if they want to get roped in to a new gym membership so I can get a month free.  I doubt that person will ever ask me anything ever again. 

I am debating with the idea of getting T-shirts made that say, “No I don’t know anyone that wants to join this gym.”  Or maybe a hat would be just as good. 

Filed under: Exercise, creepy, elliptical, smelly, stupid, weird