Brutus and Bob Go to the Gym

I'd like to share a little adventure from the gym. But first, a little history. When I lived in Midland, I used to work out at a gym where I swear that somewhere in the fine print of the signing contract it stated:

You may only become a member if you
a) have a horribly ugly and tacky tatoo around your bicep, on your shoulder bade, or on your calf
b) promise to wear those shirts that are cut all the way down the sides
c) can not put your arms down to your sides because your muscles are too big or
d) can not turn your head a complete 180 degrees and are forced to turn your entire upper body instead.

Don't worry, the rule only applied to males so they let me in. I later joined my company gym because lifting weights around meat heads can be rather intimidating. Not that they're even watching me and my 5 lb weights. They're just checking out how many veins they can get to pop out in each 75 lb bicep curl.

So now I below to another gym...it still had meatheads but a bigger cardio area so it's not so much a problem for me. I rarely venture into the free weight area unless my trainer makes me. This brings me to my story.

Yesterday at the gym my trainer and I were doing circuits as he normally makes me do. At one point we used some machine next to some guy who fit all the criteria listed above except instead of wearing a t-shirt cut down the sides, he was wearing a super tight tank top and spandex. Let's call him Brutus. I was using the machine next to Brutus and he started joking with my trainer (we'll call him Bob for confidentiality purposes) that Bob was following him around the gym. Bob was polite and laughed but his job is to make sure that I don't hurt myself and I like to think I challenge the trainers in this aspect. Later Bob and I went and used some other machines. About 15 minutes later Brutus showed up and was like "Now I'm starting to get creeped out...here you are again." Brutus must have failed to notice that we had been there and he was actually the one following us now. But he said it in a joking tone so Bob just laught and we kept on going...or so we thought.

A couple minutes later a manager and Brutus approach the bench Bob and I are at and asked to speak to Bob. Apparently Brutus was complaining that we were following him or that we were too close to him or something. Whatever he was complaining about was not true. Bob could have cared less what Brutus was doing and we weren't using any of the same machines. I think Brutus has taken a few too many steriods and now has become ultra paranoid.

That's my story. I had to share because I found it pretty ridiculous. If you don't want people within 10 feet of you while you workout, then don't join a gym.