My eyes opened and I groaned a bit as my alarm sounded on the nightstand next to me.
Cursing and spitting erupted and although I tried to quell the noise, my wife wouldn’t let it go and the noise didn’t abate until I was all the way down the stairs and on the way out the door.
I’d thrown on a pair of shorts and a shirt out of the dryer and ran out to get away from the racket but I felt a little constricted and wondered if I’d just been eating too many salty foods and retained some water.
Arriving at the gym, I put my things away and started in on the treadmill.
In short order I was sweating profusely and feeling good so I upped the speed and started to run.
As I ran I began to suddenly feel lighter, not in subtle waves but in sudden bursts and I thought maybe endorphins were making their way through my system and giving me a boost of enthusiasm and some pep in my step.
I was soaking wet and knew I’d have to spend approximately three hours with a mop and bucket to clean up my now pooling water weight around and behind the treadmill when suddenly something hit the back of my neck with a wet smack, warm liquid spattering everywhere.
Pressing the emergency stop button and pulling the earphones from my ears I looked behind me and noticed every treadmill, every elliptical machine and every single exercise bike at a dead standstill.
The entire room was staring at me…
…and the girl who’d been on the elliptical machine behind me. Now sporting a sopping wet pair of my tangerine colored boxer briefs on the left side of her face and down her neck.
Two other colorful pairs were draped on the handlebars of her machine along with a hand towel and two mismatched socks, moisture dripping from them as though they’d just been pulled early from the delicates cycle in the washing machine.
She was p’too-ing bits of lint out of her grimaced and horrified mouth and retching involuntarily, trying desperately to hold down her (what I can only assume was…) vodka laden whey protein drink.
Apparently the earlier feeling I’d had of swollen personage was actually hidden unmentionables sequestering themselves in the nooks & crannies (yeah, they’re not just in English muffins) of my once really tight, now greatly loosened gym shorts.
As each item fell from the legs of my shorts, my stride had picked them up and flung them with catapultic velocity at this poor woman and she’d been trying to dodge them like stinky and colorful wet meteors. Successful at times, not at others.
There was a dripping slap mark on her right thigh and a welt rising on her cheek where one of the socks had shot up from the bottom of my shoe and rocked her head back as she held on with her barely clenched fingertips to the elliptical grips.
Taking my shirt off and tying a knot in the waist, I began collecting my underthings and stuffing them into the neck hole, avoiding was anyone’s gaze and mumbling an apology to the once smokin’ hot (now white hot) girl for what I had inadvertently done to her, and to everyone else for having to look at my fish belly-esque pale torso.
Taking the steps down into the locker room I wondered for the many-eth time this week if I’d be facing charges on my next visit…
See you next week my friends