I like “joining” gyms. It’s the best part of gymming.
I’m always calculating when’s the right time to join … “Hummm, let’s see, when do I want to get fitter? After next Sunday, for my next birthday, right after this test, or on Republic Day?”
And then there’s the pre-gym fattening I go through.
“Well, I’m going to “join” a gym and get six-pack abs next Sunday onwards anyway. Let me act like a food gobbling maniac till that point. What’s that chicken? ya, put some more. Some more. Yes, open the fourth can. I’m going to burn all that up, starting next Sunday. Actually let’s make it the 1st of next month.”
I just need a membership to feel fitter. I did move my butt to go and pretend to check out the “work out area” and pay the folks wearing the tight orange wickedly uncomfortable clothes, a bomb. I think I’ve done my part. I’m good!
***
I don’t like the gym, I joined this time around.
For one, when I pay them that kind of money, I don’t want them to call me fat. I want them to call me … King.
I want them to speak in my language, and play my music.
In fact, in all fairness, they should be working out for me, and I should just get fitter.
I’m also extremely disappointed with the female population of the gym. Isn’t that a tacitly understood part of the deal?
I want some really hot females, wearing very gym-ish clothes, just hanging around for me.
If I’m taking the effort of looking like an idiot, panting, and sweating, cycling on a bike with it’s wheels lifted a feet above the floor, that has an odometer telling me how far I would have gone, if the supports were to come off; I want some of the above mentioned kind just hanging around to remind me why I am doing all this in the first place!
***
I don’t like my instructor. And, it has not everything to do with his mush.
It’s just the condescending look he gives me; and, his questions I can’t take:
“So, how long have you been fat?”
What, he wants like a specific date? How about the 3rd of June 1994.
“Can you run for 30 mins on this at Level 3, without fainting?”
I don’t know, you freak of nature! You tell me, you are the one wearing fluorescent colored vinyl. Can I ?
The other day, he looks at me up & down and goes,“14 mins on the fx-127 level 13, stay at 54 rpm”
No, really? He got that by just looking at me? and what on earth is the fx-127 ?
Now, I’m in my late early twenties, and have bullied my share of younger boys. But, I’m at some level scared of this guy!
Maybe it’s because he reminds me of all the PT coaches from torturous childhood. I’ve been in many schools, in many places, and these guys were the same everywhere. i.e : They were horrible to me!
What’s with these PT folks, why do they walk around like they own the world, picking on the geeky fat kids?
What is their big achievement in life?
That they couldn’t find a job as a regular teacher?
And what was their job profile really? I don’t remember them teaching anyone any sports!
What did the recruitment ad say?
“HIRING! Beefy scary looking guys, who can pretend to know sports; refuse to give “the ball” to students eager to play; wear funny clothing in public; and can pick on fat kids”.
If I could meet them now .. grrr
That’s it, I’m going to deal with this guy !
***
So, it’s time for me to hit the gym. They are going to literally make me RUN for my MONEY … on the fx-127!
Sep 18, 2008
SO, I've a coffee maker poker
SO, I go to the cafeteria at my new workplace to get some coffee, and there’s a human person there to operate the coffee machine.
Which means that instead of you poking the button on the machine by yourself, you go to this guy, wait for him to notice your presence, and when he acknowledges your existence with an upward nod, you tell him what you would like to have:
Latte, Espresso, Cappuccino ...
And then HE will do the “POKING the BUTTON” for YOU; and serve you Cappuccino (Oh ya, that’s how it works. No matter what you order, he always serves the Cappuccino, and further questions are not entertained.)
Then you take the overflowing/leaking/half spilled cup of capp. from him -> find yourself sugar -> add it in your coffee (& spill some more out) -> find a stirrer (& spill some more out)-> stir it (& spill some more) …
Now, that seems a lot of hard-work to me. I really wouldn’t mind a helper for that.
I say, If we really want to give POKER a job, let’s make him the STIRRER!
Which means that instead of you poking the button on the machine by yourself, you go to this guy, wait for him to notice your presence, and when he acknowledges your existence with an upward nod, you tell him what you would like to have:
Latte, Espresso, Cappuccino ...
And then HE will do the “POKING the BUTTON” for YOU; and serve you Cappuccino (Oh ya, that’s how it works. No matter what you order, he always serves the Cappuccino, and further questions are not entertained.)
Then you take the overflowing/leaking/half spilled cup of capp. from him -> find yourself sugar -> add it in your coffee (& spill some more out) -> find a stirrer (& spill some more out)-> stir it (& spill some more) …
Now, that seems a lot of hard-work to me. I really wouldn’t mind a helper for that.
I say, If we really want to give POKER a job, let’s make him the STIRRER!
Sep 17, 2008
SO, What’s with the instant start?!
So, What’s with the instant start, in the air conditioner?
I mean, why is there a non-instant way, when they have already figured out to do it the instant way ?!
I don’t know of anyone who treats it like an automatic camera.
“Ok … click … run … get under the sheets … got just 15 secs before it starts … I can not be exposed to that kind of cold for over 3 seconds!”
And, why is that damn button always red and hidden in the side?
What? They don’t want anyone to know they have actually invented this?!
And why are the people who found out about the secret button, walking around like they are 5 steps ahead in life, chuckling away thinking,
“Ha! Those engineers at Oricon, they think they could hide this from me! Me!”
Nothing beats the dumb founded look on the faces of the “plain-wait-for-the-AC-to-start” people, on seeing the 'press the hidden red button trick',
”What? How? How? How did you do that? It started instantly!”
Well, why is it still a trick? Why aren’t the AC folks going public about it?
They have done it. The instant start has arrived. And it’s right there, but nobody wants to talk about it. What’s going on?
I mean, why is there a non-instant way, when they have already figured out to do it the instant way ?!
I don’t know of anyone who treats it like an automatic camera.
“Ok … click … run … get under the sheets … got just 15 secs before it starts … I can not be exposed to that kind of cold for over 3 seconds!”
And, why is that damn button always red and hidden in the side?
What? They don’t want anyone to know they have actually invented this?!
And why are the people who found out about the secret button, walking around like they are 5 steps ahead in life, chuckling away thinking,
“Ha! Those engineers at Oricon, they think they could hide this from me! Me!”
Nothing beats the dumb founded look on the faces of the “plain-wait-for-the-AC-to-start” people, on seeing the 'press the hidden red button trick',
”What? How? How? How did you do that? It started instantly!”
Well, why is it still a trick? Why aren’t the AC folks going public about it?
They have done it. The instant start has arrived. And it’s right there, but nobody wants to talk about it. What’s going on?
Sep 14, 2008
SO, Weekends suck!
So, weekends suck. Don’t they ?
Because you are expected to be Superman on weekends. And who sets these high standards? YOU.
The weekday i-am-at-work moron YOU.
“Arrgh! the damn bulb’s not working? Oh! I can live another 3 days without that, I come here to sleep anyway. I can change and watch TV in that dark. It’s a work-day, I’ve work, I’ll fix this on the weekend”
“Great! the tap is leaking! Weekend. Let’s tighten this up this weekend, or some weekend, but it’s gotta be a weekend. It’s not like the city will get flooded if it leaks a little.”
“Laundry. Weekend”
“Send the courier. Weekend”
“Yes Boss. I din’t get to see that report. Tell you what, I’ll read it up this weekend.”
“Man, I missed gym 5 times this week. Well, there’s the weekend.”
“Theatre Classes? Interesting. I’ll join this weekend”
“Oh, I’ll settle all these bills this weekend.”
“This looks good. Let’s catch this movie, this weekend.”
“I’m going to find my thing. And then pursue that thing, this weekend”
“Where’s my life heading to? What am I doing in life? Let’s do some self-talking this weekend”
“Sure S, Let’s lunch this weekend.”
“That sound great E, Let’s lunch this weekend”
“A’rite then A, I’ll catch up for lunch this weekend”
“So N, let’s do brunch this weekend”
“Let’s party this weekend”
“Let’s climb the EVEREST this weekend”
***
I bet God goes, “Oh man! … bomb blasts, hurricanes, rising oil prices, global warming … yeah, let’s fix this all up this weekend”.
And none of these really happen!
I’m sure even G just sits on his big recliner thinking,
“Oh c’mmon, it’s a weekend, it’s been a hard week. Lemme just lay around for a while. And it’s just Saturday afternoon now, we got the whole night and a full day. And it’s a weekend, you gotta have fun.”
That’s the other stressful part of the weekend. You just GOTTA HAVE FUN! There’s no other way about it.
And, having fun is very stressful.
Having fun, is the number one cause for depression.
You could be doing what’s generally regarded as fun stuff, and you suddenly become very 'aware' and start asking yourself:
“Am I having fun? Is this fun in enough? Is this any fun? What is fun?
I’m 100 quid low and 7 drinks high, I better be having fun.
Ok now, have-fun, have-fun, have-fun, have-fun … oh ****, 100 bucks!”
***
SO, it’s a Sunday late afternoon, and I’ve to send 2 reports, settle my bills, read a book, fix my phone, fix my room, fix my head, watch a movie, meet 3 people at different dinner venues, and save gotha…(woooops). Nothing. That’s it. So you have a happy weekend!
Because you are expected to be Superman on weekends. And who sets these high standards? YOU.
The weekday i-am-at-work moron YOU.
“Arrgh! the damn bulb’s not working? Oh! I can live another 3 days without that, I come here to sleep anyway. I can change and watch TV in that dark. It’s a work-day, I’ve work, I’ll fix this on the weekend”
“Great! the tap is leaking! Weekend. Let’s tighten this up this weekend, or some weekend, but it’s gotta be a weekend. It’s not like the city will get flooded if it leaks a little.”
“Laundry. Weekend”
“Send the courier. Weekend”
“Yes Boss. I din’t get to see that report. Tell you what, I’ll read it up this weekend.”
“Man, I missed gym 5 times this week. Well, there’s the weekend.”
“Theatre Classes? Interesting. I’ll join this weekend”
“Oh, I’ll settle all these bills this weekend.”
“This looks good. Let’s catch this movie, this weekend.”
“I’m going to find my thing. And then pursue that thing, this weekend”
“Where’s my life heading to? What am I doing in life? Let’s do some self-talking this weekend”
“Sure S, Let’s lunch this weekend.”
“That sound great E, Let’s lunch this weekend”
“A’rite then A, I’ll catch up for lunch this weekend”
“So N, let’s do brunch this weekend”
“Let’s party this weekend”
“Let’s climb the EVEREST this weekend”
***
I bet God goes, “Oh man! … bomb blasts, hurricanes, rising oil prices, global warming … yeah, let’s fix this all up this weekend”.
And none of these really happen!
I’m sure even G just sits on his big recliner thinking,
“Oh c’mmon, it’s a weekend, it’s been a hard week. Lemme just lay around for a while. And it’s just Saturday afternoon now, we got the whole night and a full day. And it’s a weekend, you gotta have fun.”
That’s the other stressful part of the weekend. You just GOTTA HAVE FUN! There’s no other way about it.
And, having fun is very stressful.
Having fun, is the number one cause for depression.
You could be doing what’s generally regarded as fun stuff, and you suddenly become very 'aware' and start asking yourself:
“Am I having fun? Is this fun in enough? Is this any fun? What is fun?
I’m 100 quid low and 7 drinks high, I better be having fun.
Ok now, have-fun, have-fun, have-fun, have-fun … oh ****, 100 bucks!”
***
SO, it’s a Sunday late afternoon, and I’ve to send 2 reports, settle my bills, read a book, fix my phone, fix my room, fix my head, watch a movie, meet 3 people at different dinner venues, and save gotha…(woooops). Nothing. That’s it. So you have a happy weekend!
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