Ahh the gym, a magical placed filled with unique smells and butt cracks galore. Kinda like Walmart, but a little sexier. I love walking in the gym and doing a lap to check out all the people. I love people watching. I still don’t understand people who wear jeans to the gym. Wouldn’t that hurt? I’ve never heard anyone say, “Man I just bought the cutest pair of jeans to wear to the gym. I can’t wait to get all sweaty in them, so my thighs can chafe and break out into a heat rash. This is going to be a great day!” These people are as out of place as a straight guy at a Cher concert. Then there is the guy, no joke I saw him, after a few reps on the leg machine, picks up his liter of regular Pepsi and chugs it down… I have so many questions and it seems a bit counterproductive. Then there are the girls who come in with a full pound of make up on. Personally, I’m lucky to wear make up at all and if I do, it’s definitely not for the gym. I save that for something classy like a special trip to Target or, wait for it, maybe Costco. Last but not least, are the people who wear two Fit Bits… You know who they are. Personally, I just don’t trust them. It just doesn’t seem necessary. Yes we get it, you like to work out. Don’t worry we see you moving.

Well this trip to the gym I’m going to tell you about happened a few years ago. A long long time ago, in a far away place, a time before kids were even a thought and before I was even married. I think I had just gotten engaged and joined the gym to get ready for the wedding. My time at the gym only lasted a couple months and stopped purposely after this encounter. I decided this particular day to try the water aerobics class. It sounded like it would be fun and low impact. Just what I needed and I had just bought a cute new bathing suit that was dying for a little chunky dunking so I went. The pool was refreshing, or in gym terms cold AF! As I was bouncing around trying to warm up, I noticed there was absolutely nobody else coming to this class. I started getting out of the water thinking I must have misread the calendar, when this thin wild-eyed woman came power walking in. “Are you here for water aerobics?” she asked in a very authoritative tone. “Yes.” I said. She looked me square in the eyes and said, “Let’s do this, I’m a personal trainer and I’m going to work you so hard.” And that she did my friends. I quickly came to find why I was the only poor soul in the class. I’m pretty sure I cried during some point of the work out as she was screaming at me to keep going… “keep going… KEEEEP GOOING”. I can still hear her years later (insert shoulder shutter).

The workout alone is enough to burn an image in my retinas, but it’s what happened next that will really live in infamy. After the traumatizing workout was through I made my way to the locker room feeling like a shaken bottle of soda. It was getting busy in there so I thought I would just change real quick and head home to shower. I took my swim suit off and wrapped myself in a towel. As I bent over to pick up my flip flops, my stomach grumbled and then it happened… I couldn’t help it, it just slipped out. A nice cheek squeak came out… yes I farted. If that wasn’t mortifying enough, as I stood up, I noticed a girl had bent down right behind me trying to tie her shoe. She was looking up at me with the most shocked and appalled look on her face. Before I knew what I was doing, I began apologizing profusely. “Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry! I didn’t see you there!”. She is still staring at me in disbelief, mouth agape. Without missing a beat I just blurted “Damn pregnancy side effects”. Now mind you, I was not pregnant and fully didn’t understand the biological flatulence situations a pregnant woman goes through. However, by saying I was pregnant, her demeanor and attitude changed completely. “Oh honey, it’s okay! Don’t you worry yourself about this one bit!” By now the gym was hitting the busy time of the morning and I has an audience. They are all trying not to laugh at me and are looking at me in that damn “Bless your heart” way. I’m thinking to myself, geeze, pregnant ladies get great passes! Then she asks me how far along I am. Well shit, now I’m in too deep. I didn’t know what to say. I mean I’m a big girl so I just took a guess. “I think like, six months??” After having babies I realize how incredibly stupid I must have looked. Her eyebrows shot up as her eyes found their way to my flat fat belly and said questioningly “Oh well, congrats.” Yeah she figured out pretty quick I was fully of shit… well in this situation, gas! I just smiled, grabbed my clothes and went and hid the bathroom stalls, like any mature reasonable person would do. Then wait until they all laughed, I mean left.

I don’t really do the gym scene anymore. I’m pretty sure I’m an urban legend around that place. Now I like to go to group classes where there are lots of fans and loud music. So if anything slips, I’m covered. Moral of the story is… well I really don’t have one, but if this happens to you, be assured that you are not alone my friend.