The Gym

Just like peanut butter & jelly and strippers & glitter, some things I see at the gym go hand in hand. When I see one, I'll see the other.

Guy with cell phone.......................and a jug of water.
Guy with weight belt.....................and his own bottle of ripped fuel.
Guy with gloves.............................and matching workout "outfit" with combed hair.
Guy with wife beater.........................and a beanie. (Which is it dude? You hot or cold?)
Full length mirror......................and a guy shadow boxing himself in between sets of curls.
Guy with ipod........................and neoprene Ultimate Warrior ipod holster strapped to the bicept. (The bigger one of course)

A place where men once went to repent and serve god, the gym has completely morphed into a safe haven for dickheads.

I love working out by myself, but my own silence forces me to ease into hearing other peoples conversations.
This is how some conversations go down. (the following exchange was between apparent gym aquaintances)

"Hey bro" (they never know each others names, so its bro)
"Hey bud" (the reciprocation)
"Haven't seen you in here in a while, what's been going on?"
"Ah, you know just taking some time off. Man, you're guns are looking huge."
"Yeah, really? I've been training them pretty hard."

Seriously? Dude.........Seriously??
That is the 2nd reason why I don't talk to people in the gym. I don't want anyone telling me that my calves are lookin' tight!