Payback

I should have guessed that after spending yesterday morning talking about my fellow gym members, not in the most flattering way, that it would come back to me.

This morning it was their turn to give me a nickname, and that nickname would be "Training Pants" or "Girl Who Wets Herself", depending on how creative they wanted to be.

As I drove to the gym this morning, I was drinking a very large glass of water. On the almost empty road, someone decided to swerve in front of me, so I swerved, in turn, to miss them. You know what happened. The cup of water was mostly on my pants now. And not just anywhere on my pants. On the upper and inner part of my left thigh. If I had tried to pour the water in a manner that would make it look as if I had forgotten my Depends, I could not have done a better job.

At this point, my vanity nearly got the best of me. The battle between continuing on to the gym, or giving up and heading home was a close one. I mean, can you blame me? And of course, because I know how I watch people and make up stories about them, I assume that others will do the same.

But I was strong. I walked up the stairs to the gym, scanned my ID, and headed straight for the hair dryer in the bathroom. I had a plan. I would simply spend a few minutes drying the pants and I would be spared the potential embarassment that awaited me. I began to dry the pants, ignoring that fact that my thigh was now burning from the heat of the hair dryer. It won't take too long - minor discomfort is worth not being "Pee-Pee Girl". I was starting to see some progress. And then the dryer shorted out. Evidently, if you hold a cheap dryer very close to the object you are drying, the heat becomes to intense, and as a safety, it stops working. So now, the wet spot looked more like a large unidentifiable stain. I sighed, and realized that I needed to get over myself and get my butt out of the locker room.

I avoided eye contact with everyone as I headed straight for the elliptical.

Blind Justice kept staring in my direction in a very Creepy Creeperson kind of way.

The morning got better after that. I stayed on my elliptical for 45 minutes (mostly because it blocked the "stain" from view, and by time I finished it had dried completely) and Clappy smiled and winked at me this morning. As if to say, "You're working out even though you lack bladder control. That's dedication." Good ole Clappy - he judges no one.

And now I am sitting happily in my office, sans water soaked pants, sides hurting, but contented that I accomplished yet another day of working out.


Mood: Pleased with myself
Listening to: The Luckiest by Ben Folds Five