Camping Out

I must be getting old.  By some people’s standards, at 50, I am already old.  Little things that didn’t bother me ten years ago now get my blood boiling.  My newest pet peeve is people who ‘camp out’ on the circuit machines at my gym.  Today, it was a young lady who was more interested in her Facebook feed than her workout.   She smiled and giggled as she scrolled through the news feed while I waited for my turn on the adductor machine.  I tried the stare, the stink face, the loud sigh, and the attention-getting cough, but nothing could break her concentration once she was connected to her online friends.  Yesterday’s camper was a woman who was staring into space for long—and I mean loooong– periods of time between sets.    The men do it, too.  There are several older men who sit on the machines and chat between sets.  Get off!!  Let someone else have a turn.  At least let me ‘work in’ with you.  And yes, I have asked permission to ‘work in’ several times, only to hear, “I’m almost done.”  When I go to the gym, it’s to work out.  I leave my phone in my locker.  I’m not there to socialize, rest, scroll through Facebook, talk on the phone, or check my email.  I’m there to work, and I’d like to do it as quickly and efficiently as possible.  I’m getting older.  My body needs a lot more work than it used to.   Just let me finish my workout.  Besides, there’s a big bag of organic popcorn waiting for me in the pantry.  I need to get home!

“Tents are for Camping”–Ink Pen and Watercolor–From my sketchbook

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2 thoughts on “Camping Out

  1. rafaelpradov says:

    Oh, no. You are not getting older. You are getting wise! 😉
    Cheers,
    Rafael

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