Reasons To Go To The Gym
REASONS TO GO TO THE GYM – Why Being A Bit Tubby Isn’t So Bad and How To Bring Yourself To Feel Sorry For People Who Aren’t
You Are What You Eat…If You’re Not Careful
Go look in the mirror now boys and give yourself a score out of ten for sexual attractiveness. Ok, what are you… an eight, a nine, a ten even? No you’re not. If you were actually an eight or above, you wouldn’t be sitting at a computer reading this. You would be in one of three places: the gym, out hunting your next conquest or rutting with said conquest.
However, you are reading this, so you are a five, or a six at a push if you’ve got a good wind behind you and have groomed yourself to within an in inch of people suspecting you might be gay. Like most men you fall in that chunky middle section of the good looks bell curve.
He Came Around And His Saturday Night Fever Had Broken
You may well protest that you do go to the gym. Me too. There are many reasons ordinary men like us go there, and one of them is to keep in shape. Once he gains legal access to pubs, the average man’s snake hipped youth lasts two years, tops. After realizing this – and it can take some time – he joins a fitness club and starts working out. Several months of three workouts a week later, he will have acquired one of two types of physique.
The first would be described, by even the kindest critic, as “wiry”. The second is that of an over muscled bouncer who has let himself go a bit and enjoys a few too many kebabs after the nightclub’s closed. He could take expensive supplements or go on a low fat, no alcohol diet, but frankly the results really wouldn’t justify the expense or the depressing lifestyle.
I’m The Same Boy I Used To Be…Unfortunately
If it’s all such a waste of time, then why do those of us that go and know that fact, do so in the first place? We go for the main reason of course. The same reason men buy aerobics videos; to watch exceptionally fit and attractive girls jiggling up and down and sweating. There’s a regular complement of them at every gym.
They exercise excessively and get away with starving themselves by surviving on a diet of solid smugness. Their boyfriends are sometimes there, though more commonly they are at another gym being admired by other such girls, with whom they will later be unfaithful. These boyfriends are the tall and tanned Adonis type, naturally.
I look at these beautiful, buffed and exquisitely shaped girls and my heart aches. I feel so sorry for them. Yes, you read correctly, sorry for them. They are trapped in a cycle. On a treadmill so to speak. They may be naturally pretty, but they are not naturally that shape. The girls who have that advantage are busy eating what the hell they like and partying with impunity.
The gym bunnies, because they do what they do, are the pretty, pretty girls. And a pretty, pretty girl has to be with a pretty, pretty boy. If she isn’t, then all the Gucci handbags and Jimmy Choo shoes in the kingdom won’t keep her in with the in crowd. These fellas are just another vital fashion accessory.
The Handbags And The Gladrags
Like any fashion accessory they have a price; those high heels hurt and everyone wants to nick your fancy handbag. These boys have had a lifetime of pretty girls fawning over them. They put more effort in at the treadmills than we do, but only just; favourable genetics mean they don’t have to. Most of them don’t really have to go at all, but they do anyway. They have to masturbate their egos, because they have very little opportunity to masturbate their penises. There’s always some stunning, physically sculpted girl begging to do it for them. They may be genetically advantaged men, but they are still just men and as such essentially quite lazy.
Personal Grooming? I Dunno, Sounds A Bit Suspect
These men have to groom and preen themselves, because even the most handsome of them has competition. One thing they never have to do is learn to be good in bed. Why should they? Plenty of other eager beavers lining up to replace the current unsatisfied customer.
The frustrated ladies discharge their sexual energy by working out even more, where they meet yet more pretty boys… and so on. This continues until they finally admit to themselves that handbags and shoes are good and narcissistic wankers are bad. They then marry rich, older men. They may or may not be sexually satisfied, but at least someone else is paying for all the designer gear.
After that they gradually morph into those sad faced, pampered, mahogany skinned women who you also see in the more exclusive health spas. The bloom doesn’t just go off their grape; they actually seem to turn into raisins. Those years of draconian diets and UVA poisoning mean they end up looking fifteen years older than they actually are.
I’ll Grow On You. But Then Again So Will Athlete’s Foot
I know this all sounds very bitter, but I’m not saying love me, love me, I’m ugly, ‘cos I’m not. Just an ordinary average bloke who has to get the chance to grow on a girl before she gets interested. Most parts of my face are worthy of caricature, but the over all effect isn’t too bad.
It’s a bit like that thing they do in the papers and glossies every so often when there’s not enough news to go around. They take all the best features from the faces of the most gorgeous stars of the day and superimpose them to make the ideal sex symbol. The result is always a god-awful bloody mess. Well, it’s a bit like that, only the other way round.
Like you, I don’t regularly pull in nightclubs or pubs or at parties. Not unless the lady in question is blind stinking drunk. No, a girl will need to meet me quite a few times and have a number of chats before she realises she fancies me, but isn’t quite sure why. She will always be a new workmate or a recently introduced friend of a friend.
This is where the gym goddesses really miss out. They can’t possibly see someone who no one would fancy straight away, so they never get to sleep with average Joes. But us average Joe’s have to make a real effort to keep a girlfriend once we’ve got one. This means being reasonably – but not too – nice and being at least fair to middling in the sack.
You have to gain a little bit of a reputation; otherwise that friend of a friend won’t have taken things any further no matter how intrigued she is by that mysterious attraction. It’ll only ever be just a slight niggle unless it gets a bit of a nudge. The pretty boys can insert and squirt then wipe their cock on the curtains on the way out and still be the ones who do the dumping.
Not Like This…Like That
You might be wondering what happens to the pretty boys. Actually, you’re probably not, but I’m going to tell you anyway. Well, they usually go to seed somewhere between 24 and 27, and then follow one of two routes. Either they turn into those sad ageing Lotharios who hold court in dodgy nightclubs and slowly drop their standards until they regularly sleep with women who look like Tommy Cooper in drag.
Or, they marry one of the slightly sub standard gym girls they’ve spurned until now and join the band of men whose wives constantly write into Dear Deidre about how awful their love lives are.
Fortunately for you – yes you- most women twig these men not long out of their teens. Doesn’t stop them being taken in entirely, of course, because everyone’s a sucker for a pretty face. Plus women are eternal optimists, thank fuck. All of which means you are at least not snookered before you start, though you might want to keep working on the personality, if it’s anything like mine.
Reasons To Be Cheerful. One, Two, Three
There’s a final reason to go to the gym. You can do your half arsed workout and smile inwardly at the badly advised smugness of all that doomed eye candy. You know your fate, they don’t know theirs. Their male predecessors aren’t there and the mahogany ladies keep their lips buttoned due to being too bitter to warn anyone else off. Think of your unenthusiastic puffing and panting as a well earned rest from fending off normal girls with that well worn shitty stick of yours.
© Copyright Michael Grimes 2013