Rant and Rave of the Week 3: The Gym Gargoyle

Despite the subtle differences in my experience with gyms and my current one I was not prepared for a recent encounter with a gargoyle husk of man who has been attending my morning sessions. It was not until the loud clearing of his throat that my attention was brought to him. Sadly the unfortunate man was burdened with cold. However luckily for all, the gym was acoustically equip to handle his mucus movements from the gullet up his windpipe to his mouth and back again.

Unsurprisingly it was not long before a loathing grew for this despicable man. I watched him as he slimed from one machine to the next. One of his favourite haunts was the ‘Well-Bring Master’, a machine that has a cotton belt attached that vibrates furiously. He spends on average 10-15 mins being pleasured by it, letting it vibrate from top to bottom. Whilst he indulges in the melancholy motion he clears his throat like a gorilla beating his chest to ward off foes.

Moving around the gym, I try to forget about him, letting the music and endorphins take me. Shortly however we meet again, this time naked. In the shower room. A closed small tiled room is perfect for sound to bounce from the wall. As hocking fills the room, the unpleasant expelling sound of gunk follows. Disgusted by this ritual I hastily finish showering, turning into horror as the same man is now squatting on the floor cleaning his anus with his hands and a bar of soap. Granted I’m all for cleanliness but there are other methods of cleaning oneself and also in private.

I leave, nauseatingly tarnished by this grossly hygienic toad. As I exit into the changing rooms I spy a pair of socks over the nozzle of the hair dryer. Like a bad episode of Scooby Doo my guess at who dunnit is spot on as shortly after irrigation the toad retrieves his toasted socks from the dryer.

This man is certainly unique in terms of grooming habits and his social etiquette. Thankfully for all, his cold has subsided leaving us with just his abnormal cleaning habits.

© John Brownlie 2011