11 April 2002


So I'm working out on the weight machines at the gym today, and the machines are close to a set of tumbling mats where lots of people stretch before or after their workout. You with me?

This guy comes over to the mats and starts doing all these stretches that are (pardon the expression) rather fruity looking. Lots of pointed toes and touching feet to the back of the head. A little strange, maybe, but no big deal.

Then the guy lays down on his back and lifts himself on his hands and feet so he's forming a sort of arch. Also, he's wearing some baggy soccer-type shorts and he has an obvious erection bobbin' there in the air over him, kind of an exclamation point on top of the bridge he's making with his body.

Stop your snickering. As a rule, I don't check out guy's packages at the gym - how many times do I have to say it? It's not that kind of gym. But this would have been impossible to miss, like a submarine in the swimming pool or a kangaroo jumping around in the racquetball court.

I looked all around. Other people were at the machines nearby. A trainer and a couple of his clients were on the mat right next to the guy. The snack bar is close to where the incident took place, and lots of people were walking back and forth. None seemed to notice the turgid member in their midst.

Finally the guy came out of his stretch (or display, or whatever it was) and sat on the mat, crosslegged.

I don't know. Maybe it is that kind of gym.

This is the greatest obituary ever.