1 minute, 13 seconds
Created by Bunk Beds Pedia
Now, I'm sure you will all feel better knowing that.
Hopefully that doesn't come to pass, as I don't know that being chained to a bed and a velociraptor is something I would like to do. Ever.
Went to the gym again today.
I hate to have people look at me while I am exercising. I am not pretty. I am sweaty, my hair is all fucked up, my face gets really red. Not good. Mostly, I feel like they are staring at my jiggling behind, and I really hate that.
So today, I went to the very very back of the gym, so that no one but the wall could see my heinie, and hopped aboard le treadmill.
There was a weight bench directly in front of me.
A tottering old man wandered over, sat on the bench, and watched me.
For about 10 minutes.
Not wanting to assume that he was lechereous, I didn't say anything. Maybe he was resting, maybe he was having a heart attack.
But he stared. Directly. At. Me. The whole time.
I turned up my iPod and looked at my feet.
A personal trainer person man, (that's his title, I'm sure) saw what was happening as the GYM WAS ESSENTIALLY EMPTY, and came over and got on the treadmill right next to me. (I assume that treadmill rules are similar to rules at the urinal, right? You're not supposed to sidle up right next to someone if given the option not to, right? I don't use urinals, I just hear about it.)
The old man left.
Sigh.
