You don't see a lot of fat people birding, but you don't see a lot of ripped people birding either. Mostly, it's middle aged people who take care of themselves. That might seem like a "lame" demographic to you, but hey--you could do worse! I might have to do worse, some day, if I don't take care of myself. I might have to get into bug watching. A lot these middle-aged birders can crest a medium-sized hill without breaking a sweat, you know, and that's already better than me in present day. I can't even talk to a woman without breaking a sweat. So for the sake of my birding, I've been working on a long term plan to get fit. It involves going to the gym 2 times a week and not ordering fries at Burgerville. Usually, I go to the gym with J-Bird, so I have someone to high five and do coke with (plus, sometimes a bird gets inside the gym by accident), but today I was alone. Never go to the gym alone!
My purpose was to swim. Have a nice 46-minute freestlye/breastroke sesh in the in the sparkling waters of Cascade Athletic Club (or "CAC," which is funny to me as a Byron Crawford fan), drown my unease in exercise and "cool off" with a nice long steam sesh in the steam room. As a fat-ish man, I love swimming and steaming more than any other gym activities (including staring at men's penises!), so it seemed like a really good plan to me, but it wasn't. The problem was, I should've made it a SHORT steam sesh. I decided to really go for it, for some reason. Maybe I was feeling good about the swim. I had "Farmer's Market Of The Beast," a steamy song I learned from reading rap blogs stuck in my head, and I kept trying to remember parts of the verses, and it got harder and harder. That's the fun thing about the steam room, really: it slows your mind down to a nice calm speed, where you're not so worried about thinking about everything. But, like I said, I overdid it. One man's mind can only be so clear. Fortunately, someone walked in, right when I was about to pass out. A woman! That certainly gave my mind a reason to stay conscious. It might be the woman I have crush on at the gym. And in fact, it was! My body was too hot and dehydrated to show any signs of it, but my heart was trembling like the lid of a swim suit dryer. Then it started to slow down, like the lid of a swimsuit dryer at the end of a cycle, when it starts slowing down: Bumpbumpbumpbump....bumpbumpbump......bump....bump....and then I passed out!
When I awoke, I tried to think of something to say to the woman I have a crush on at the gym, to make everything seem chill, still, but my mind was even blanker than before. There was a silver lining, though: I had that confidence that comes with blank-headedness.
"You wanna go on a date?" I mumbled.
"What?" said the woman. It wasn't the woman I have a crush on at the gym. It was a different woman, who I don't have a crush on.
Uh-oh I thought. Better backtrack.
"Dates! I need dates!" I screamed. "For a specific and complicated medical condition!"
The woman ran out, and a gym employee came back with some kind of health bar made out of dates. Ironically, it was the last thing I needed! It just cut the roof of my mouth and made me thirstier. Cursing, I swallowed about 3/4ths of it and tried to leave, but some asshole had left a banana peel right outside the doorway of the steam room, and I slipped on it and GEORGE WASHINGTONed right there on the tile. Fortunately, my skull is famously thick and powerful.
"Arrrghghgahsdghghgg" I said. It did still hurt, a fair amount. And I hate to admit it, but I vomited.
THEN the woman I have a crush on walked in!