Dear Women at the gym,Hello. I know we haven't properly met, but I wanted to take this opportunity to reach out to you, considerin we've been seein a lot of each other lately (Yes, once a week is 'a lot' to me.). I'm sure you must know who I am, as you have spent plenty a minute observin me. See, I'm the girl on the Elliptical machine next to you only goin for 10 minutes at a speed of 6.7. I know you enjoy how slow I'm going because you keep lookin over to make sure you're going faster than me. I assure you, you are. You're the fastest Elliptical machine rider of all time. You win. (Plus, it's my WARM-UP!!!)
And yes, that was me next to you on the treadmill ranting to my pal that I can't, "FREAKIN believe I have to come to THE GYM and then am forced to stare at some dancer's FREAKIN butt JIGGLE all over the place!!! This isn't a music video! THIS IS SOFTCORE PORN!!!" in between sweaty pants as I power walk because I "don't do runnin." And just because I know you heard it, yes, that was me who farted next to you while you were takin up the whole floor doing your pilates exercises. It slipped. I'm sorry. I can imagine why this was so alarmin for you because clearly, you don't have gas. That would require eatin!
I also just wanted you to know that YES, that's me in the lime green swim suit from Old Navy two years ago that walked past you while you were perched on the jacuzzi wall. And yeah, I could totally see you staring at my butt in horror as I walked by. Our eyes met when I purposely turned around to catch you staring at my butt, and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed how startled you were that OH MY GOD, THE WOMAN THAT BUTT IS ATTACHED TO HAS EYES. I know it must be quite alarmin, that I dare turn around and catch you in your sneaky past time of staring at other women who dare display the fat on their bodies IN PUBLIC and critiquing them and reassuring yourself that No...My butt is definitely smaller. Thank God. If I ever get that fat, I'll just kill myself. Ugh.
I know I have some nerve obstructin your view of the hallway to the steam room with my stretch marks. And my cellulite. And that ingrown hair on my shin. Dude, I'm totally sorry. I know. I'm, like, tooootally nastified. But here's the thing. I'm going to the gym for a reason. And it's probably not why you're here. I'm here, ladies, for my mental health. I'm here, for my physical health. And yeah, I'm to stay a bit more toned so I can eat my pizza and cupcakes and not have to keep buying a bigger pair of jeans every freakin 3 months.
To the girls in the pink track suits afraid of going any faster than 3.2 on the Elliptical because you're afraid of sweatin, SWEET JESUS ALMIGHTY GO HOME! If you have nothin better to do than stare at other women and their fat in the pool area, why don't you go busy yourself with a session with a personal trainer, or go suck on a popsicle? I may not be as dedicated as you are on the Power Plate, or liftin as much weight on the abduction machine, or be afraid of walkin around in my bathing suit because everyone will see my thighs jiggle but that doesn't give you any more right to be here than me.
So, ladies. I just wanted to cut you a deal. If you happen to be one of those women talkin in the steam room about the 3 million dollar home in Nichols Hills you were just looking at and how crazy you are because you forgot to tell your husband you were going to be at Yoga until 10pm last night, I'm goin to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Yes, that was me who farted in the shower. (Again. It slipped.) That was me standing there naked as long as possible while you and your gal pal Sandy discussed preschool prices and low fat salad dressing. It may not seem like the most clever revenge I can get on your rudeness and irritatin way of breathing, but being all offensive with my size 16 butt, my offensively large boobs, tattoos, and stretch marks, and body piercings is the best I can think of.
I enjoy that when I do this y'all clearly get really freakin uncomfortable with having a naked chic who clearly doesn't do Yoga at 7:30 every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday night standin 2 feet away from you. I love being the woman you are terribly intimidated by and by the way, don't kid yourself, your husband was looking at me, because I am all woman and not built like some teenage boy.
Ladies, I am comfortable with myself and comfortable with my body and CLEARLY that makes you uncomfortable. Do me a favor and stop starin at my "flaws". If you're starin because you're impressed with my magnificent boobs, then just say so. (I mean, you have every right to be. Let's be real. After all, your husband was.) Otherwise, if you're starin at me with disgust and I catch you, you're going to get The Stare, possibly a nipple in your eye if you happen to have a locker near mine, and knowing myself like I do, probably a few choice words as well.
You have been warned.
Kisses!!!
See you next week....The Redneck Princess!
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