Monday, October 11, 2004

Spinning, Angry Asian Women, and Randomness

First, a moment of silence for these poor individuals:

1) The man in the row behind me who had to watch my ass, particularly, the jiggling that naturally happens out of the saddle and the unfortunate squishing things that happen when in the saddle.

2) The janitor(s) who had to clean up after the veritable hot tub of sweat I left behind on and around the bike, having forgotten my towel.



...



Every night is MILF night in Orange County, California, and there were a few great ones in my spinning class tonight. However, I was distracted by the Angry Asian Woman happening all over the place. There was Marathon Angry Asian Woman, a chick with nice calves and a tee-shirt proclaiming her marathon-ness, who had the bike in front of me, who did the Fake Smiling thing at the MILF next to her at first and then spent the whole class slacking off. I must outweigh this chick by sixty pounds, and I can out-spin her. She reminds me of a phone conversation I had with my mother. She had been going to the little gym in her apartment complex for a couple of weeks, and she said, "A lot of skinny women go there. Why do they go to the gym?"

I don't know. For the fashion? Obviously, Marathon AAW wasn't there for the workout. Way to motivate the people behind you.

Gaggle Of Angry Asian Woman was really several Asian women, but you couldn't tell. They walked together en masse, like a school of fish, or one giant, angry glob of chicks. Gaggle of AAW came together, got bikes together, and talked to one another, but there was no encouragement or laughter between them. They were there for business.

MILF Angry Asian Woman was a treat. She was a rare specimen. Long hair (no ponytail, no sweat), enormous fake boobs. She looked about thirty-five; in Asian years, she must have been in her fifties. In the locker room, her look of death was enough to wilt me. She was the water to my Wicked Witch of the West.

***

I have never been to a spinning class where there was not one guy in the back who would beg for more. I don't like to talk during classes; I'm not one of the wooo! girls. Maybe I got over it in my pentecostal fundamentalist Christian childhood. Can I get an amen? Shut the fuck up and let me think.

I understand why the instructors want you to woo. It's to make sure we're all okay, all breathing. So I don't mind the woo girls, even though I'm not into it. But I cannot abide the asshole in the back. If the instructor says, "How is this pace?" and you say, "No problem! Make it harder!" you need to be punched in the throat. The instructor wants to make sure that nobody is overtaxing themselves or in pain; if the pace is to easy for you, clever boy, here's a hint: TURN UP THE FUCKING RESISTANCE, PUSSY. No one is impressed with you. We all think you're a dick. Shut the fuck up.

***

Lastly, here's a random quote from IRC. No need to thank me.

and then sean was all "how much will you give me to rub my dick on the door"

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