I joined a gym recently to see if there were any other fat people there.
So far, I've met an eclectic bunch of folks including a local television personality, (Aren't you on the news?) an Arab looking fellow that let two people in during off hours, (made me very nervous) and a group of Seniors from the Red Hat Society. (They always work out in purple outfits and red hats. There's also a couple of beefed-up Hans and Franzs that spot each other and I keep waiting for them to bust out with, "We vant to Pump you up!" You've also got your assortment of younger kids, athletes, tattooed and pierced twenty somethings and two middle-aged fat people. (One of which is me, I haven't met the other one yet.)
Another crowd that hangs out at the gym are those that are in really good shape. You know what I'm talking about--butts so high and tight that I can set my Diet Coke on one while I try and squeeze out three crunches. I haven't actually talked to any of those people yet, they sorta ignore me. (Oooohh, it's the fat girl. Better stay away from her, she's got the cooties.)
Anyhow, one afternoon I was taking a walk on the treadmill while my heel spurs were screaming at me when this fella walked in the door. He had on light blue, no name jeans, a light blue denim work shirt and white velcro strapped tennis shoes that had certainly seen better days. He was small in stature, white haired, had big ears and had an extremely high pitched voice that made you wince every time he spoke. He looked and sounded just like Ross Perot.
This guy gave me a nod, hopped up on the treadmill beside me and took off. No warming up for him--he had that machine a going and had his heart rate up in no time. The curious thing about him was the way he ran. It wasn't really a run, almost a shuffle, or a canter if you know anything about horses. I had to stop watching him shuffle along because I started unconsciously imitating him and tripped and almost fell off the treadmill. He grinned at me when this happened and told me to be more careful.
I had finished my time on the treadmill and had wandered over to the weight machines while the lookalike had finished his run. He was dripping in sweat and was about to leave the gym when one of the people that works there says, "Why don't you get a workout outfit, a pair of shorts or something?"
Now, I wasn't sure what to expect from this guy, a retort or something, but certainly not this. He cocked his head to one side, gave that fellow a quizzical look, pointed his finger at him and said, "Now, see here, here's the deal..." and turned around and walked out.