Bea and I have been endlessly complaining that ever since we entered our slave-driving company, we’ve gotten fatter and less healthy. Since we don’t have the budget and I don’t have the skills to join the weekly badminton group, and I don’t really see the fun in walking around Makati after work with the three-times-a-week-paliitin-natin-ang-mga-puson-natin group (I don’t mean you guys aren’t fun ha…just meant the activity isn’t appealing to me=P); Bea and I found a way to win a one-month free membership at Fitness First (how we did that is a secret=P)
This isn’t my first gym membership though. I enrolled myself at Slimmer’s World about a year ago…as what happens with most people, I stopped going after my 5th or 6th visit. The gym was just too far and they took out the hip hop class and…and…well, okay, I’m making excuses. Anyway, Bea and I enrolled together at the Fitness First nearest our office. I knew I wouldn’t waste this membership because Bea’s going to pester me nonstop and motivate me to go, plus the classes seem really fun. THEY HAVE HIP HOP AND JAZZ!!! Where do I sign?!=)
We went for the first time today. We left the office early (hehe, I left my other stuff and my computer on so it would seem like I haven’t gone out yet=P) and excitedly changed in the locker room (after a minute or so of trying to figure out how the locks work). Bea and I intentionally did not wash off our make-ups. Of course, fitness was our first priority. Finding boys will always be second. So we had to look great while sweating. I even wore my Incubus shirt to make sure I attract attention from the right boys. My horoscope did say: “Your already bodacious personality sparkles even brighter as a result, turning you into a magnet for another’s deliciously impure thoughts. Look your best and give others a chance to catch their collective breath after you sweep into a room”. Well, the guys did seem to be “catching their collective breaths” at the sight of me….oh, they’re just panting on the treadmill pala. I looked at the mirror and checked myself out. Oh shiyet, I wore the wrong panties and my butt cheeks were squished like a longanisa gone wrong, showing through my sheer nylon jogging pants. Note to self: If you want to be a ‘magnet for another’s deliciously impure thoughts’ you’d better wear the right undies.
I surveyed the place. Oh…there’s a cute one….ooops…nope…his butt is kinda swaying too much. How ‘bout that one…looks macho…ooops…the hand movements are triggering my gaydar…WHAT THE F@#%! Are there NO straight guys at the gym these days??? (Note: I have nothing against gays…it’s just that I’m looking for men=P)
At our first class, my suspicions were confirmed. It was Body Combat. A class I thought would at least have some testosterone. WRONG! Fag…Fag…Faggity Fag. Even the very manly and macho-looking instructor turned out to be gay. He made all the movements look sexual and malicious…I like him=) Having been sedentary for a while, Bea and I had a hard time keeping up with the really active gym-goers. Every time I tried to sit and catch my breath while the instructor was fiddling with the music, this fag would practically slap my butt and say “Don’t sit! Don’t sit! Just walk it off…walk it off”. Whatever! I still smell better than you, bleh! Unfortunately, he was still there for the second class. The Nike Rockstar Workout class. Worse is that this fag and his friends took the whole front row and I had to play peek-a-boo the whole time to see what the teacher was doing.
At the end of my first day at the gym, I figured out some ways I can weed out the gay men from the straight men at the gym (are there any???). I still need a lot of tips ‘cause it really is hard to tell the straight from the gay… since they all have big muscles now (if you’re a straight guy who goes to the gym, perhaps you can help)!
1. The fags join classes like belly dancing, body jam, and anything with dancing. The straight men would use the machines.
2. The fags would lip-sync…or worse, actually sing… to Kelly Clarkson songs during cool-down.
3. Instructors are likely to be gay.
4. The fags dance or shake their butts to the beat of the music even when they’re on the treadmill or stair master.
5. The fags like checking themselves out at the mirror more. The real men would more likely be checking out the chicks.
6. If his gym clothes are color coordinated, that spells F-A-G.
7. Fags go to the gym with their group. I think the guys would have one buddy at most.
8. Fags like ‘performing’ in the classes. They’re almost competitive! They like showing off how quickly they learn the steps you’re struggling with.
9. If they’re checking out the pecs and triceps of the other gym rats, obviously, gay!
10. Short shorts? …GAY!
After my fun, tiring, and uneventful first day at the gym, I walked back to the office and bought a McDonald’s Turbo Meal with large fries plus hot fudge sundae. Mmmm…yeah…
