January 8, 2015
Dear new people at the gym,
There are a lot of you I haven’t seen before, so rather than trying to address each of you special little snowflakes in one letter, I’m going to talk to each of you directly, one by one, so you get the full gravity of how much you annoy me.
To the guy who thinks it’s okay to forget his headphones and just blast his own music out of his phone speakers: If I’d wanted to listen to Maybach Music and the fucking Migos for an hour I would’ve brought my own iPod. I’m trying to watch people get murdered on SVU, so have some fucking decency. C’mon, son.
To that other guy singing along out loud to whatever’s playing through his headphones: What the hell, we can all hear you. Just because you can’t hear yourself doesn’t mean your voice doesn’t carry to other people. The next American Idol, you are not.
To all the people who’ve appeared out of the woodwork to take up all the cardio machines: Where the fuck were all of you back in August, or even last week? You're giving me no choice but to pick up a free weight...the horror...
To the girl walking on the treadmill: You don’t even look like you’ve broken a sweat the entire hour you were here. Walking as a cool-down is totally acceptable, but walking at a casual stroll pace for your whole workout is not. Move it or lose it (not meaning weight).
To the guy on the elliptical next to me who’s clearly listening to Serial: Can I join?
To the girl having a v personal phone conversation on the elliptical: Um, can you not? The gym, or any public place for that matter, is not the time to have a heart-to-heart about why Jared is ghosting you. You could try Dear Betch.
To that lady I just saw get off her machine and leave without wiping it off: Gross, do you want us all to catch Ebola?
45 minutes on the elliptical in peace shouldn’t be that much to ask for, I’m just saying. I can’t wait to see all you people drop like flies the second February hits. Until then, no I am not done with those weights.