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The owner of the gym, who we will call Pitbull, was a retired NFL star. When I walked in he stood there like a black Incredible Hulk, arms gym pitbull crossed in a huge mass. He was less than six feet tall and so I had the pleasure of looking down on him.
I walked behind him toward his office, gym pitbull which was centrally located and all glass so that he could spy on ladies in vulnerable workout positions throughout the gym. Pitbull hobbled from the many abuses a decade of professional football tallies up against a body. An interesting juxtaposition: cripple bodybuilder. All his thrice-broken fingers hung at strange angles and earlier I’d almost puked shaking his hand. Gym pitbull During the interview he asked all sorts of questions in a calm voice, and nodded for a long time after every answer. He didn’t seem unimpressed by me as much as wary.
“Sure,” I said. “I’m a fast learner.” He nodded gym pitbull so long I almost dozed off.
Maintaining eye contact was crucial but I kept getting distracted and could barely answer his questions for lack of paying attention to what had been said. By no means was this my fault. A miniature television in his office was playing a highlight video of Pitbull scurrying around a football field. The sound was off but it was still hard to ignore. Behind Pitbull was hung a huge poster featuring himself in a bodybuilding pose during some competition, all lathered and rippling a great deal beyond what is decent. I was fidgety in admiration and fear of this obscene shrine, watching this guru of narcissism nod gym pitbull.
I got the desk job and with it came a free membership, which was the only fringe benefit I required. My job was to stand there and make sure that everyone who came in checked in. I was to greet them and be friendly, thereby fostering gym pitbull good customer relations. That was the extent of it as I understood it, so I agreed. Then he made sure I was agreeing to do this full time,gym pitbull a dazzling number of hours a week, and at the sound of the number I got sick to my stomach and could barely gym pitbull force myself to acquiesce.
I started the next day. Pitbull kept a close eye on me. He took frequent strolls through the gym to bullshit with the guys and smother the women with deep, perverted hugs. Over their very shoulders I saw him monitoring me. gym pitbull Many times I caught him spying on me from his office too.
“Can you sell gym pitbull memberships?”
It wasn’t long before he started to resent me. He didn’t like how the ladies were lavishing attention on me, the rather sexy mom from home confided to me. But I couldn’t help that and I resented his resentment, gym pitbull so I began flirting with the ladies and going on my own strolls through the gym. This was probably interpreted as an act of war.
Pitbull decided to establish the pecking order by verbally sparring with me in front of guests. It was good-natured enough but it is a bad idea to spar gym pitbull verbally with me if one has an ego to protect. Pitbull fell under the wheels embarrassingly swiftly. He gnashed his gym pitbull teeth when his guests joined me in laughter at his expense.
On day three Pitbull gave me a squirt bottle and a rag and a tour of the gym with exasperating instructions on my daily cleaning duties. My attitude during this tour was not good. I was to wipe away all the sweat that drizzled off the fantasies loping along and crushing their overburdened heels on the treadmills. All four hundred and fifty vinyl surfaces were to be disinfected. Weights were to be re-racked. The eight thousand square feet of mirrors were to be wiped down top to bottom.
“Even if there’s no fingerprints?”
“Top to bottom,” Pitbull said. “Dust settles on mirrors too.”
There was a whole mess of gym pitbull other shit to remember, including foul duties to perform in the locker room. The end result was that I shook his gnarled hand, gagging slightly, and told him all will be taken care of. gym pitbull He seemed to doubt this.
In the long run I couldn’t bear to do it. More and more he snuck out of his office, inspected the treadmills for sweat droplets, and gym pitbull hobbled over to yell at me while I closed my eyes to slits to let him know that I was bored to the brink of death. Every time he bellowed What I told you, Ryan! What I told you gym pitbull !
A source of new friction became the temperature in the gym. It got hot in there and people frequently asked me to crank up the air conditioning. Pitbull instructed me to keep it at 75 degrees no matter what. Gym pitbull I was instinctively revolted.
To save a few pennies Pitbull would have his guests fainting with fevers and falling all over the floor in dehydrated heaps. Whenever he left the gym on errands I would make like Robin Hood and crank the air conditioning to something like 12 degrees and try to turn it back up just before he returned. Sometimes I forgot and he’d come at me in a rage, gym pitbull screaming What I told you!
Even with these and other annoyances the job was easy. Sometimes I managed to enjoy it. When the ladies took group classes, which were about five times a day, it was in a glass room directly in my gym pitbull line of vision.
I sat staring at gym pitbull them with an erection for half an hour at a time. Not my fault. Sometimes up to forty women would be squatting and bending over and flailing their legs and rolling back and forth on Swedish balls so that for minutes on end I could see nothing but asses and crotches and cleavages waggling at me gym pitbull. Some of the women were strippers and one was a recent Miss Teen California.
Just because Pitbull didn’t like me doesn’t mean everyone else didn’t. In fact, part of his rancor was certainly due to my popularity. I began sauntering out into the gym pitbull and more to chat people up and leave them laughing while Pitbull spied menacingly from his glass office.
It has already been mentioned how gym pitbull was always hobbling out to the ladies and delivering hugs that could be legitimately charged as rape in some states. But one day he pushed the limit of bad taste so far I almost fainted. A decent-looking lady, well kept, came in asking me for a tanning pass. gym pitbull We charged something outrageous to tan, but she didn’t want a package. She wanted a freebie. Pitbull came wobbling out of his office, crushed her with a solicitous hug, and said “Kiss me and I’ll let you tan free.” I was then treated gym pitbull to a point-blank vision of two people married to other people kissing so wetly that when Pitbull pulled his huge purple lips away a trail of spit drooped like a rope bridge between them… |
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