Everyone knows that guy at the gym. He’s greasier than a sunbathing piglet. He’s got on more accessories than a bondage slave. And he’s oblivious to the stares and points that come from every inch of that sprawling exercise wasteland. That muscle-mound mass provides more comic relief than that one machine that should just be called, “the vagina tightener.” But what happens if you’re that guy and you just don’t know it? I imagine it’d be kinda like finding out that not only was your mother kissing Santa Claus, but she was also sitting on his face. Here are 8 signs that you’re “that guy” at the gym.
Photo credit: siegrtmarc, Flickr
We understand the thought process around having nothing in your pockets, and your hands completely free to pull, push and point at the girl with the fat ass in the PINK pants. Despite all of its benefits, attaching your musical device to your arm is telling the world that you’re not a complete d-bag yet, but you are training to become a full-fledged member. You know who uses iPod bicep straps; failed MMA fighters who now have hopes of becoming Segway cops.
It’s a gym. You pay money for the things inside and to pee in the shower. I’ll never understand the people who bring in outside pieces of equipment. If they don’t have it at a place that surely cost several million dollars to build, than you probably don’t need it. People who do this are the folks who go to a bar and ask if they have Chinese Deer Penis Wine and are flabbergasted when they don’t.
Weights are heavy. We get it. You’re so fuckin’ jacked that the last repetition has left you more spent than a pornstar's vagina after a spin in a slam van. But this does not entitle you to drop a hundred pounds on the ground with other people’s little piggies in close proximity. You wanna drop a load, go see Sergio in the steam room. I’m sure he’ll take care of you.
Sweet bandana, broseph. So Sergio from the steam room reciprocated and dropped a load on you?
Of all the trends that have seemed to permeate gym/exercise fashion in 2011, the Vibram FiveFingers shoes are far and away the worst. While you’d think these were a piece of footwear that would be reserved for people who wore Tom’s Shoes, instead, they seem to perpetually show up on “that guy.” These people end up looking like hunter/gatherers who have stumbled on steroids instead of squirrels.
Pick one. You’re still going to be toeing the douchebaggery line, but with all three, your bladder has secured you as one of the worst offenders. If you ever want to find these people, and there are no offending bottles next to them, I suggest punching every single person doing crunches in the stomach and see who lets out a stream of murky yellow liquid.
Now you’re entering dangerous territory. I’m all for getting pumped up, but barking like DMX or singing like Bieber is never acceptable in a social setting. You end up looking like a Tourette’s suffer with a slightly sweaty butt crack.
As men age, they seem to become more comfortable with their naked bodies around other men, despite the fact that their pectoral muscles and testicles share the same amount of elasticity. Sure, drop trou’ and take a peek at your naked body to make sure everything is still properly attached and to find out if that love blister has turned into an amor volcano. Don’t parade around the locker room and finish things off by Tebowing. Just don’t do it.
(Originally published on December 7, 2011.)
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