The Hunchback of Bally Total Fitness

by Patti

The other day I was at the gym and when I was done with my cardio, I headed for the floor mats to stretch and do my sit-ups. As I waved my legs around in the air, feeling more ancient than ever, I noticed in the wall mirror that a man exercising on the stationary bike was staring at me. Immediately self-conscious, I lowered my legs and discreetly peeked at my crotch to make sure I wasn't giving some sort of free show. Nope. No holes. For once. I carried on with my stretching and leg-waving, when suddenly the man that had been staring at me was next to me. I told myself he had the right to stretch, but I still felt annoyed and uncomfortable, and I got up from the mat and headed for the weights.

No less than 3 minutes into my first set of weights, that man appeared on the machine next to me. I purposely cut my set short and wandered to another machine. He followed me. I did it again; he followed me again. Now I KNEW he was following me, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. After all, there I was, make-up-less, sweaty, lopsided bun.... I mean, seriously? WHY? After a good 20 minutes of feeling stalked, but not enough gumption to ask him why the hell he was doing it, I left. I ran to my car, convinced he was going to follow me out and chase me into some seedy ally.

When I got home, I told M all about it, trying to get a male's perspective. DO guys stalk ugly, sweaty, old bitches at the gym? Are they THAT desperate?

A couple of days later, I went to the gym again. I was relieved that Stalker Guy didn't seem to be there that day, and I happily worked out in complete, un-stalked oblivion. When I got home, M was sitting at the kitchen counter with S, and I threw down my gym bag and headed to the fridge for some juice.  "What is wrong with your BACK?" M practically shouted.
S laughed, "MOM! Your back looks so WEIRD!"

I craned my neck, stretching awkwardly to attempt to see what was freaking them out. S came around the counter and started lifting my shirt. She shoved her hand up my back and into my sports bra, did a little shuffling around back there, and, like a magician pulling scarves from his frilly sleeve, slowly pulled out the longest, thickest sock pretty much ever. Both M and S burst into laughter, while I stood there, completely shocked and bewildered, wondering how on earth I had possibly rocked the stair climber and weights and crunches as a complete and total hunchback.

M jumped from the bar stool and gleefully leapt into the family room, where he grabbed a couch cushion and shoved it up the back of his shirt.  Mimicking me, he puzzled out loud, "I wonder why that man was staring at me?" Then, his back deformed and protruding, he began to mime lifting weights and doing lunges. "I just don't get why that man was staring at me!" S and I were screaming with laughter.

The stalker's motives were finally explained. Let's face it: I'm the hottest hunchback at the gym.