I have some pleasant news for you.
I went to the gym yesterday after work.
No, actually, I went to the gym and I got onto the dreaded scale of sadness. I've lost 3 pounds since Monday. I'm preeeetty sure that a normal human being can poop 3 pounds each day, but I could be wrong. 3 pounds is 3 pounds and that's less than I weighed on Monday, so that's all I needed to see. So, from there I exited the freezing cold locker room and predictably headed over to the lesbian elliptacle. Without thinking about it, I climbed on one and began watching the Simpsons. There was an older woman next to me, occupying the other one. I couldn't see what she watching, I would presume something about flowers or the show on channel 3 with the lady who shows elderly woman rip roaring arobics they can do from the comfort of a chair. Except that lady always used an antique wood chair for whatever reason. I never understood that. She'd have ladies in the background, also sitting on wood chairs, with beehive hairdos, and velcro gym shoes. It was quite adorable. I mean, I get the point of it, but I never understood the wood antique, 18th century dinner chairs they'd all be lifting 1 pound weighs on. None of them were in good shape either. I think they all flocked to the nearest 'Mildred's Diner and Thimbles" and engorge on hot water and rhubarb pie or whatever old ladies in the 80's ate, after there hard work outs of sitting.
So I'm working out, about 4ish minutes into my work out, when who should arrive, but those damn lesbians. Uncle Beatrice and Big Pat...I had forgotten all about them until then! Uncle B actually had the nerve to come up to my machine, and even though I noticed what she did, she nonchalantly checked the time on my machine. I wish I could have seen the look on my face because I'm pretty sure it was funny. I got a little wide eyed in disbelief at what I just saw and just mouthed, "Get away lesbian...".
I think the lesbians are starting to catch onto our secret rivalry. I had my headphones on, but I swear on everything gay that I saw her give Big P a little chuckle, shot me a menacing lesbo stare, and then they headed over to the treadmills. Maybe I can send hate waves after all?
I felt so triumphant. I had won. I seriously wanted to hug that that lady next to me. She unknowningly had helped me defeat the lesbians after my month and half of anguish and reluctant patience of wanting to use my beloved machine. Thank you strange woman, thank you.