I joined the gym to weight train; hopefully, without becoming a gym asshole.

You know the type of which I speak.

It’s a wide demographic — from men to women, young and old, fit and not. Mainly, though, they are young, fit men and they put the mirrors to good use while they sweat and preen. My 51 year old, saggy ass walked into the gym at 6 this morning and ran into a sea of assholes.

I joined because I realized that I’m not going to buff up my ass and abs without weight training. I reluctantly entered the gym, trying my best to convey that I want to join the gym but not the Asshole Club. I asked for the cheapest, least obligatory membership.

Every membership comes with a 3D scan and a fitness evaluation. I stood on the rotating platform in shame but am happy to report that my body type and weight puts me firmly in the “fit” category. My body fat is at 23% and I weigh less than 90% of the women in my age group.

The Personal Trainer set her sights on me but quickly saw her up-sells diminish when I told her I don’t like being told what to do and I definitely don’t like being hovered over. I told her to just give me a workout plan and let me be.

———

She: When is your birthday?

Me: [eyes narrowing] December 3.

She: Sagittarius?

Me: [eye lasers locked and loaded] Yes.

She: That explains it.

Me: [kill shot] That doesn’t explain shit.

———

Okay, maybe I AM already an asshole but I’m not a GYM asshole!

Yet.

Someone, please slap me if I buy any Gold’s apparel!