I guess it ain’t no surprise that I don’t go to the gym very often.  Sure there’s a gym in my building, just 10 floors down, but man.  Getting my butt down there?  Tres dificil.  So if the stars align, the mood is right, and I actually put my sneakers on after a cruddy day at work, let’s just say it’s a Very Big Deal.

So the other night, I’m feeling all productive and pumped, rocking out to some Judas, doin some boxing jab/fisticuffs in the mirror, and I decide, tonight is the night!  It’s GYM TIME lets doooo thissssssssss.  I hastily grab some workout pants at the top of a pile of (clean) laundry and run downstairs before the moment passes.  I mean, I am feeling really good about myself.  All proud and whatnot.

At the gym, I notice a few other people (which always makes me skittish) going hardcore on the treadmills, but then I think, dude you live in this building too, bust out the Kelly Clarkson and own the elliptical!  After a few minutes I hear a tiny coughing/laughing mixture coming from a tiny coughing/laughing woman in the corner.  The cough/laughs (caughs?) continue at fairly steady 1 minute intervals, so I think to myself, oh this poor lady must have a lung condition.  Poor little lady.

After about ten minutes or so, I decide to kick it up into a higher gear.  And it is then, and only then, that I feel a slight knocking on the back of my calf.  What could this be?  Are my sweatpants randomly bunching or something? And so I turn around and look down, and what do I see, but a long trail of nylon stocking coming out from the top of my waistband and hitting me on the calf (think of it as one toe/leg stuck at the very top of the sweatpants, and the huge mass of elastic/control top whipping around down by my ankles).  Apparently me and the Stocking must have been moving in seamless motion together because this was the first time I even noticed the long trail of nylon betrayal streaming from my butt.  I didn’t notice as I was walking out my door despite the full length mirror in my bedroom, I didn’t notice in the elevator door reflection on my ride down (and I’m now remembering that I was not alone in that elevator, oh lordy), I didn’t notice as I walked into the gym and planted myself smack in front of a wall of mirrors.  And then I realized holy shit tiny caughing lady has been CAUGHING AT ME THIS WHOLE TIME.  I try to play this off like ohhh snaps what is this thing in my pants? And I kinda make a whole production of it (I figure acknowledging it and owning it vs. trying to be discreet and looking embarrassed is the way to go here).  I grab the Stocking mass and ball it up in my hands, and then I think, where the hell should I put this?  So, um, the logical reasonable answer to that is, of course, my armpit.  Because that’s what I did next.  I thought it would be totally hidden there….but yeah it wasn’t.  So then I laugh (a little too loudly) and stick it next to my water bottle in the water bottle holder.  Are you exhausted yet?  Because I am just reliving this whole ordeal.

Anyhoosiers, final takeaway: ALWAYS CHECK YOUR BUTT BEFORE YOU GO TO THE GYM. 

rant by Liz (wearing her gymrantpants, and also crying inside)