My new roommate, Ms. Zoe, has instituted a non-optional food consumption and workout routine which I am obediently following. I shouldn’t complain as we both woke up this morning noticeably thinner.
Zoe’s making me go to new parts of the gym; sections I’ve been afraid of before, sections where men in big leather belts grunt when they lift things. It’s like working out in a prison yard.
Normally, I do my cardio and then hit the girly pink and purple leg and arm machines, near the water fountain and away from the intimidating muscley people. But Zoe has no fear, sauntering past body builders and ex-cons bench pressing small cars. Last night, she plants me in front of the mirror and has me do overhead arm curls with two 10lb. weights. As I scream and bitch in agony, a huge gentleman come over, with guns the size of my thighs, motions to the 55lb. weights and politely says, “Are you using these?”
Look at me, pal. What the fuck do you think…