Smelly Cat

Do you have a list of topics to blog about and pull from it on the days you really have nothing to say? Well, I do. And today it is the smelly gym guy from last Thursday.

I love to work out. My gym is very busy right now, with the lovely spring snow and cold to the bone wind we've been having. So imagine how thrilled I was when I spotted an eliptical machine open, with the TV screen in front of it that telecasts the Ellen show. I heart her show a lot. She is hysterical. About two minutes into my workout I figured out why that particular machine was available.

The man next to me stunk. I mean reeked. I had to turn my head, that's how bad it was. I could not watch Ellen. My neck still hurts. I know I kept making faces and gagging noises. And I was holding my breath, you know, to avoid smelling him - no easy task, working out and holding your breath. The thing is, he wasn't even sweating that hard. But when he would stretch his arm out forward with the machine, DUDE. Bad smells.

MFH explained to me that he probably needed to wash his clothes. See, that must be the difference between men and women. It would never occur to me to wear smelly, sweat stained, soiled clothes more than once. Wear them, wash them.

MFH also tells me that I am easy to read. Apparently that is true, because right when I was about to pass out, Smelly Cat reduced the time left on his machine from 17 minutes to 5 minutes, and then he left. It was the longest 5 minutes of my life.