My year of celibacy: A love affair with myself (57)

MY YEAR OF CELIBACY:

A LOVE AFFAIR WITH MYSELF

Have I ever told you about the time that I was thrown out of a gym, and I mean literally!?

I was still living in Pretoria, and in case you don’t know it is suppose to be a hoity-toity place. I worked very hard and found it difficult to get to the gym and besides there were so many choices. But all three of the gyms close to me, had some disadvantages.

The one was very expensive and I felt as if every little bump on my body was inspected when and if I would walk in there, furthermore it felt like a cemetery with silent ghosts moving about just enough to look as if they were exercising but not enough to sweat, because what would that do to their image!? To top it all they had no spinning classes. My second choice was a cheap, not well equipped gym and the spinning cost extra. Now I am a spinning girl and what sense would it make to join a gym where you have to pay for the gym – you don’t use – just to be able to pay to spin?  My third choice was a small room in a house where they only had spinning classes and you could pay as you use. Sounded perfect and so I joined. However I am very sad to have to inform you that it only lasted one class.

I walked in, chose a bike, set it up and happily started spinning while I waited for the rest of the class. The (very big – meaning very fat) instructor arrived and started on her bike. A few others trickled in and as the one (and only) man in the group came in he made to my astonishment very explosive racial remarks. I couldn’t help myself – still being in shock – and told him that he is referring to my friends and asked him politely to stop. He didn’t even look up, smiled and repeated the same words, I called him a pig and that was the end of me. The (very big) instructor grabbed me and pushed me out of the gym in a very non-uptight manner.

Then, as you all know, I moved to Witbank and for those of you who don’t know, the Flooze is doing her part to make sure that everyone knows that Witbank has no class and the people are common. So when I joined the gym I was quick to inform them that I don’t care if they want to throw me out, I have been thrown out of better dumps than this one. But lucky me, I’ve been there for a year now and still not been thrown out. In actual fact, I’ve made some wonderful friends that are trying not to be negative towards other human beings. They actually sweat when they exercise and we even have a weekly coffee together and if someone say a subject is off-limits they respect it. But best of all they have the most wonderful sense of humor. This week alone the only man in the group asked us ladies to please be so kind and tell him if his pants has been washed too many times and is now see-through (I was sitting right behind him so I gladly checked for him) and our instructor tried to translate an Afrikaans sentence directly into English ending up with “pinch your bums stiff”. We are still teasing her at any possible opportunity about that.

So you see, if I have a choice, I would at any given day rather choose to have no style.

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