It seems that many of my posts are about injustices directed my way.
If I perceive it, does it make it real? If it seems that the man who is sitting next to me on the bus is crowding into my space, on purpose, does that make it so? What's real? It feels very real that he is crowding into my space, spreading his legs to hog up more of the room, even if some of that room is on my half of the leg space. But can I legitimately attribute ill will to him? Is he trying to bother me? Or is it just coincidence?
It does make it seem worse if I think he is doing it on purpose. Which I think he was. Plenty of seats - entire rows - opened up during the ride and yet he remained next to me, choking me with his stale cigarette smell. I wanted to punch him and make him move. Get away from me.
But he is not whom I wanted to write about today.
I want to write about the guy in body pump.
When I came in at 11:59 for my noon class - I don't want to waste time when I am taking my lunch hour to go to the gym and it's not like I have friends to talk to in the class, anyhow. Nobody there talks to anyone. This is all business. Get in and get out and get back to work.
I got into the class. (Yes. I left you hanging with that last sentence. Sorry.) It was crowded, but there would have been room for everyone if everyone had spaced their benches and mats properly. You don't need five feet in front of or behind you.
I put a mat on the floor behind this guy "Brutus" while I surveyed the space, trying to figure out if I could fit behind him or if there was a better space.
Brutus was in the front row. He had six feet between him and the mirror. He was almost parallel with the instructor.
"You're awfully close back there," he said.
Really? You're going to get pissy with me, Mr Wears A Fannypack Filled With Keys and Gloves to class? Mr Loads Up On the Weights? Mr Could Easily Move His Bench Two Feet Forward?
Not, "That's a tight fit. Will you have enough room? How about if I move my bench forward a little? This class gets really crowded!"
Nope. Just an aggrieved, "You're awfully close back there."
Maybe I would have let it go, but Brutus has already gotten on my nerves.
Have you ever been to an aerobics class where people go, "Wooo?"
I am not a woo-er.
Some people are. Fine for them. I don't. I don't woo.
Some instructors encourage it. They want to build a sense of cameraderie in the class. I understand that and applaud that, but I am not a woo-er. Even when something bad happens, I don't exclaim. I do not sing the song of Something Bad Happened. I say, "Oh!" And then I solve the problem.
There are some classes where people woo and some classes where they don't.
Body pump, which is a weights class set to about the worst music you can imagine - can you imagine a rap version of "The Lonely Goatherd" from The Sound of Music? If you can, then you just have imagined the worst music possible - is not a wooing class.
Body pump is about lifting weights and making it through all the repetitions without dropping anything or hurting yourself or embarrassing yourself by not making it through the entire set, although I would say it's less embarrassing not to make it through the set when you are using ten-pound hand weights than when you are using two-pound ones.
This guy is a wooer.
He "Woos!" all through body pump.
He is the only one.
Sometimes, he has a long woo. He adjusts the woo to fit the routine.
He will not shut up.
So I was not in the mood to be nice back to him when he said that I was awfully close.
I snapped back, "Don't worry. I'm not getting into your space." As if I would want to be. "I'm trying to figure out where there's room."
Then I pulled my mat back and placed it perpendicular to his because that was the only way I could fit into the class.
Ten minutes into the class, he pushed his bench forward.