Some may see this as social regression, others as anonymous attention seeking, but I suppose the best part about blogging is that it doesn't really matter what anyone thinks of it. Don't like it? Cool, don't read it. Think I'm awesome, and may even be the reincarnation of Jesus? Even better.
As the plan goes (the plan I came up with on my way back from the gym tonight that is) I will post something once a week, probably on a Monday, and rant mindlessly about the week before. Hopefully, a whole bunch of awesome shit happens to me during that week and you are entertained for hours with my Odyssey-esque tales, but if you're not, I'll atleast strive to entertain myself enough to justify such self indulgence.
Seeing as I like to start things the way I intend to continue, and I came up with this idea at about 11:50pm on a Monday, I haven't exactly given myself ample preparation time. Because of this, this particular entry is going to be a fairly lengthy introduction to Lomez World. Feel free to zone out at any stage, I know I probably will.
This whole thing started when I had somewhat of a life changing realization while getting my gym on; shit pisses me off. Not only does it piss me off, but I get the feeling it pisses me off more than it should. It seems that every time I unleash my fury back at the flat, to work mates, or strangers on the street, they all give me the same look that sort of says "come one mate, that's a bit far." Well no, I don't think it is.
Here I am at the gym, minding my own business like a boss and being generally unfit, and this jacked Indian guy crosses the entire gym to the treadmill I'm using, and tells me he wants to use it because his pal is on the one next to me.
First off, buddy, you just crossed the whole gym to achieve that! THE WHOLE GYM! You passed like three free treadmills on the way, including the free one on the other side of your friend! Thats right, there is a free treadmill on the other side of your mate, so there is no reason at all you need my machine. Is this one of those "want what you can't have" situations? Is this how you pull all of the ladies? Nice strategy dude, but I'm sure I'm not the first person to take issue with it. Secondly, its a god damn gym, not kindergarten. You're not hanging out on the monkey bars or playing hopscotch. You're working out. This is a solo game. it's like solitaire with muscles, so I find it hard to understand why you feel the need to ask a stranger (and one who obviously requires the exercise a little more than you do) to give up his machine so you can hang out. Hang out later, meet at the car, jerk each other at home, I don't really care, but I don't see why in gods name it has to impact on me. You're mate obviously wasn't too fussed. I guess we know who's the reacher in this relationship then...
So I tell this guy in the most polite way possible that I'm going to be using it for about 10 more minutes, or he can use the free one on the other side. Pretty reasonable right? No out of line swearing, no racial slurs, no going all Big Country on the kid. For some reason, he didn't see it that way, and instead decided to LOSE HIS SHIT. Ranting about how I'm being an asshole, how I'm only refusing because of his race, and generally hulking out.
Now, this guy was fucking huge compared to me. Like, I'm talking genuine Kimbo Slice material. So being the small european lad that I am, I wasn't really looking to get into it with the guy. So I reach over to turn the machine off, ready to obey the general order of the gym's foodchain, when his buddy decides to get involved. Proper involved, too. Not like Dr. Phil involved where everyone leaves feeling better about themselves, more like Jeremy Kyle involved, where you know damn well what you've done, and you're getting decimated for it.
To my surprise, and apparently to that of his friend, the dude joined team Lomez for the show down.
The dude stops his treadmill, gets his buddy in the kind of headlock a WWE wrestler would have been pretty damn proud of, and drags him out the door, all without saying a word. I'm no expert on friendship (I've only got three... and they're all through facebook... forever alone...) but I'm pretty sure its not every day you get manhandled out of a gym by your dude.
Now I don't know what the story is with these guys, maybe they were wanting to recreate an OK GO! video, maybe they had some kind of jacked Indian style Cirque Du Soliel with treadmills planned, or at a long shot they may have even been looking to shoot the shit while working out, but the point of this whole thing is that no matter how close of a friend you are to someone, even if your so close that you have an unnatural urge to exercise next to them, you can still be so much of an asshole that even that friend can't take your shit anymore. We all have that friend, the one who takes shit that one step too far, but the fact that this guy went all NYPD on the kid suggests its not the first time ol' Hercules has acted up. I suppose I can take something from that, being that part of the reason for this blog... or that rant on this blog... was the fact that those around me don't want to hear my lame rage issues. Maybe I'm the less upfront version of the muscle hampster indian guy?
Screw that, I'm awesome. And hopefully given a little more thought this blog will contain a little more than misplaced rage towards some random guy at the gym, and will be equally as awesome.
Until next week, learn from the muscle hampster. Don't lose your shit at the gym, Don't piss your mates off, and probably most importantly, Don't do 'roids.
Kyo
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