I swear this happened in a span of about ten minutes.
Last week, I'm in my local gym, where I've worked on and off for twelve years,
most recently as the Fitness Manager, until I was fired by my District Manager,
the reputed great-great granddaughter of Adolf Hitler. I'm in the gym, free of charge,
because of the good graces of my former General Manager, Jim. He knows and
understands the nature of the corporate beast. He also knows Hitler's granddaughter,
who, by the way, has left the company to raise her second demon child.
Anyway, I walk in, and at the front desk is Melissa, a very cute and sexy receptionist
who always liked me and who I hadn't seen in months.
"Arunas, how are you...?"
"Well, I still don't have a job, two jobs I thought I had I don't, my unemployment is running out,
my car's transmission is dying, I need a hip replacement, no med insurance, I'm $30,000
in debt and last December I turned sixty-fuckin'-three!"
That's a bit too much bad news for anybody to swallow, especially someone who knew me
when I was "the shit". But, she paused for a moment searching for a response, looked at me
and said, "But you look good!"
I laughed, and ten seconds later Maria, a former training client, walked by.
"Arunas, how are you...?"
"Don't even ask...I still don't have a job, two jobs I thought I had..."
"I know it's tough out there..but you look good!"
Across the front desk, another former client, Larry the Lawyer, was getting off an elliptical machine. Larry, unlike most of his breed, is a nice, sweet guy.
"So, Arunas, howya doin'?"
"Oh, Jeez, I still haven't found a job, now I need a hip replacement, the car's dyin'..."
Larry didn't miss a beat. Sympathetic, hand on chin, deliberating...
"But you look good!"
Over the past month, I've heard "...BUT YOU LOOK GOOD" at least five other times.
What is that?
I think it comes under the category of "a-thing-to-say-when-you-don't-know-what-to-say".
But, in my case, it also happens to be true. I do look good. Especially for an old geezer of
sixty-three. Attribute it to good genes, an optimistic, sometimes arrogant "devil-may-care","never-say-die" attitude, intense exercise, running and sports for most of my life, long and short periods of
intense love and sex, enthusiastic masturbation, two packs a day (cigarettes then, little cigars now),
megatons of drinking, whatever!
intense love and sex, enthusiastic masturbation, two packs a day (cigarettes then, little cigars now),
megatons of drinking, whatever!
Point is, "I am what I am, I'm Popeye", the ironman. (If only I could find my Olive and keep her).
Who knows what's next? Will I find a meaningful job? Will I make enough money to survive and be
able to pass some on to my son? Will I finally find the peace of mind to write "the book"? Does
or should anyone really give a shit whether I'm around or not? Who knows?
But I look good!
I've heard of this District Manager before. Was she the one with the chode-like build, breasts that would make the gestapo cringe, a schnauz that was transplanted from Barbara Streisands wardrobe of spare noses, and a bovine noise when "grazing" the gym? Yeah, I saw her mugshot in the Times. Bigfoot was brought in for questioning about the whereabouts of any of his family.
ReplyDeleteI think you should read between the lines. No one says that a 63 year old man looks good after hearing your story. They simply shed a tear and move on. Maybe they drop a penny or a half-penny into your tin. Hey, thats not a half bad idea, fake a disease on top of that. You could campaign! The "real" American older-man. Fuck "Joe-the-Plumber" this is a true working class immigrant who represents America! Please run, do not walk to your bank and give Ironman your funds! Your kids education is on the downward slope as it is. Why waste?
But I digress. As I was saying, these gym-rats simply wanted to jump your bones. Melissa, Maria, AND Larry. Maybe they conspired this. Maybe they thought about you before and planned this act upon your arrival. I say, Turbo, go back and sleep with them, maybe even all at once. Using your witticisms and mind-control, you could convince them they need to pay you for sex.
You could be turning a new leaf here...
Okay, maybe that comment was a little insufficient. Here is my insight:
ReplyDeleteThat comment should be taken with a grain of salt or tspn. of oil, if you prefer. With relevance to your last post of "thinking positive", what does looking good actually mean? You look younger? Tan? Fit, dare I say? It doesn't change the fact that you're broke, car sucks, etc. Remember who's telling you these compliments. Public Gym average-joes. People obsessed with the status quo of going to a gym to "feel good" because "I should" or to try and "look good" without ever making the proper changes to themselves for that transformation. These are the ones who roam the Earth statically and neutrally-positive (makes sense in my mind, don't ask), caught in limbo. What these people don't realize and should, is that no matter how you trim your beard, dye your hair, tan your skin, build your biceps, it will always be you staring back in the mirror.
But what do I know? I DO know that the more I learn, the more I realize I don't know shit.
Maybe thinking Positively Negative is the way to go. Feeling good, is vastly superior to looking good.