Why I hate gyms #2

A few more visits to the gym, and a lot more material:

Random Conversation Guy

Imagine walking back from the shower: towel wrapped around your waist, one hand holding your towel and the other holding your locker key. As you walk up to your locker, dodging a couple other guys that are in various stages of dressing/undressing, you insert your key into the lock and open your locker. As you open your locker, the guy on the bench who's locker is open directly next to you says loud enough to hear but not quite loud enough as a conversation starter,

"Oh man, my feet feel like I ran a marathon."

Unsure of whether he's talking directly to you, you assume he's not and that he's actually continuing a conversation with the guy on the other side of him.

"I really need to get new shoes. There's at least 500 miles on these since last year."

Suspecting, you peek over your shoulder to watch for a response from the other guy.

Nothing.

Is he talking to himself? Or worse, to me?

As you continue to peek over, you accidentally make eye contact with him, as he was peeking over his shoulder waiting for a response from anyone, at which point the door opens for a direct conversation with said respondee...aka: a lucky soul...aka: me.

I give him a brief acknowledging nod and smirk, and look right back down to my underwear which has successfully rolled up into a ball as I tried to hurriedly pull them up my legs after dropping my towel.

He apparently takes it as a green light.

Without so much as an "Oh yeah?!" and a couple "Really?!" remarks from me, he goes on for what seemed like 25 minutes about everything from his favorite brands of running and walking shoes over the past 3 years, to the flavor of power bar he had for his last three different types of workouts and why he chose them due to their varying nutritional content, to his soon to be expanding options on his current Minnesota Twins season tickets (depending on the future of his currently booming personal economic choices).

Throughout the conversation (*can you call it that if only one person is spewing a run-on sentence?) I made very little eye contact, and dressed quite rapidly. I tried to not seem rude, but after taking out my gym bag and putting on my jacket, it was pretty apparent that I was ready to bid him adieu.

Not apparent to him though, as his sentence would never end. There, literally, was not a single entrance point in his speech for me to say "Well, have a nice day." It actually took me a few back-steps for him to get the point that I was ready to go home and that I didn't want to hear about the way he haggled down the Jiffy Lube across the street during his last tune-up.

Mind you through nearly the entire "conversation," he was standing straight up, in whitey tighties and black dress socks, and applying lotion all over his body...repeatedly in some areas.

There are so many people that use the gym as a place to socialize; to meet new people; to network. Just make a lap around the free weight area of the gym sometime and watch the number of people with their arms folded or leaning against a rack that are just talking. It's not these people that I'm ranting about though. These people still annoy me, but just a little, and only if I'm waiting to use the equipment that they're leaning on.

It's the people that socialize with random, naked, usually sweaty strangers in a cramped, smelly, humid space that I usually deem as a private area, and an area where my space bubble is a little bit bigger.

I don't want a complete stranger within 3 feet of me, and facing my direction trying to talk about digestive issues and nauseating energy bars while I try to get dressed in front of them. I especially don't want people bringing up their "very favorable economic statures" while I'm in one of the most vulnerable positions possible for judgment, and I don't mean with my latest ATM balance receipt hanging out of my pocket. I mean being trapped in a wound up underwear beartrap at your knees trying to unwind them with one hand and balance with the other hand on the nearby lockers so you don't plant your bare ass on the naked guy's lap behind you.

It's very basic etiquette, learned way back in junior high at your first day of gym class where you need to change in front of your classmates before class, many of which you aren't really true "friends" with, that you don't make eye contact with others while they're naked, and you give them their space until they're done changing. If there's room on the other side of the bench, you grab your stuff out of your locker and change on that side, only returning when all genitalia are re-covered appropriately by both parties and neither are in a precarious position which could cause unfavorable sight lines. Kind of like going to dinner and sitting in a booth. You wouldn't sit on the same side of the table if both sides are open; why would you both change on one cramped side of the bench when there is a completely open side?

Just because I share an interest with you (staying fit by going to a gym) doesn't mean I want to talk about it. I go to the gym as a sanctuary. To blow off steam from work. To focus on sweating and muscle burning and not falling off the treadmill. And finally, to clean up and get home.

If doing a group fitness class, then talking would be perfectly acceptable as long as I'm not ready to blow chunks. We're both in a more specific setting and are sharing an activity. And it has the word "group" in it, indicating that you aren't alone and are supposed to train together.

No where in the tiled swamp called a locker room do I see the word "group" or "team." I want to just go in, clean up, and get out with the lowest number of delays as possible. I don't want to hang out in here, mainly due to post #1 of this series.

And, if you want to talk to someone, at least let them talk back to you. Learn how to use periods in conversation.

At least commas. Commas are good.