Tales from the Y

Since today is a day off from working out, I thought I'd entertain you with some of the very strange things I have seen in my short time working out at the YMCA.

I have already commented on the number of people who go to the Y to push their feet lazily back and forth on an elliptical machine and call it a workout, but what I may not have been clear about is the sheer numbers of people at the Y. I have only been there a few times when it has not been insanely crowded. Granted, I usually go directly after work, which is when everyone goes, but I can not believe the amount of people who mill around, not even in workout clothes, taking up space and getting in the way.

The hallways are constantly filled with children running around aimlessly, gripping onto candy and sodas, and usually spilling both everywhere. These same children tend to find their way into the cardio and weight rooms, getting in the way and playing with the machines. There is a rec room for these kids to go to, and I assume that their parents expect them to be babysat by the television and pool table while they work out, but there is no one keeping these children corralled.

Old people aren't much better than the kids. They're bigger, slower, and in most cases, naked. While the kids run around the hallways getting in the way, the old people waddle around the locker room taking up space in the hallways with their big exposed rolls of fat and making it impossible for you to squeeze by them without touching some part of their body.

They also seem to think that since they've been on this planet X number of years, that gives them the right to talk at the top of their lungs about their diarrhea problems while showering in the open. I don't know about you, but I prefer my friends to have their clothes on while I talk to them. Or, at the very least, I would turn away while talking to a naked person. Not these people.

They're naked in the hot tub, naked in the hallways, naked when they're doing their hair, naked just roaming around talking to people, naked sitting on the stools provided to place your workout bag on, and my favorite-- naked while going to the bubbler.

This deserves a proper explanation. There was a little old lady wandering around with only her granny panties on the other day. The waistband came up to just under her armpits, and her boobs hung over, literally to her belly button. I had thought that boobs drooping to your stomach was an urban legend. This woman proved me wrong. She had a big smile on her face, and was slowly wandering around, pausing to talk to people. She never made an attempt to cover herself, just smiled and wandered. Finally, she decided she was thirsty, so she went to the bubbler. Since I was doing my hair, I could see her in the mirror behind me. She went to the bubbler and let her boobs spill into the drain as she drank. I will never drink out of that bubbler again.

Finally, there are the people who don't seem to understand space boundaries. For instance, I was using the mat to do sit-ups, sitting at the far left end of the mat. There was room for at least two people to my right. Fatso plops his butt down right next to me, rolls onto his side so his face is almost touching my right arm. He starts doing some kind of weird side crunch and screws up his face so he looks like he's constipated. He starts grunting, expelling hot air onto my arm. I couldn't do my exercises anymore, so I got up, grabbed my towel and stomped away. He paused, looking confused as to why I was so angry.

I'll try to relate more of these stories as time goes on. For now, it's back to work.