Sunday 23 January 2011

Common Courtesy when going through doors, please

Went to the gym today, actually.  Struggled a bit, because of having a headache and already feeling tired.  Still, I'm a game old bird, spurred on by the fact that we bought a pair of bathroom scales yesterday and when I weighed myself I found I've actually put on weight since I joined the gym.  I was gutted when I found out, and as such, being the trooper that I am, decided that more exercise is the answer.  And perhaps, less junk food.  Bugger.

When trying to gain access to the gym, you have to hand your card over to the receptionist before you can get through the gate entry system, so they can swipe it.  Last Sunday when I tried this, I was kept waiting for 10 minutes because they were short-staffed, and the person that was on reception took it into her head to have a conversation with someone already there, so kept everyone who was trying to get into the gym, waiting at the turnstile.  There was an old couple behind me who weren't happy with it either, but I digress...

Anyway, today there was a male staff on the reception, and he was flirting with one of the members, who had 3 kids, one of which was hanging on to Mummy and bawling her head off.  Shut the little f****r up, thought I, not particularly charitably, and managed to catch his eye so he'd let me in, which duly transpired.

Just as I got to these horrific people, they all decided to barge me out of the way and head towards the changing rooms.  Bo*****s, I thought - that's all I f*****g need.  Anyway, on I gamely went, and got treated to getting the door of the changing room slammed in my face.  I bashed it open, just about missing the eldest little b*****d, and said "Thanks for that", in a fairly audible tone, whereupon she looked around shiftily, glared at me, then visibly paled as I glared back and really burned it into her.  Well, I'm afraid, ladies and gentlemen, what goes around comes around.  If yummy mummies can't be bothered to teach their appalling brats some manners, then that's just going to have to be my job, isn't it?  Mummy, on the other hand, opted not to have heard this exchange, and then we all went to the same bench to swap our outdoor shoes for trainers, and all that kind of thing.  Mummy then proceeded to spread her and the kids stuff out all over the bench, so I waited until she turned her back, then I moved her stuff about and made some room for yours truly.  When she turned round, she wasn't overly happy at what I'd done, but didn't make any comment, other than a grunt, which is pretty typical of the area in which I like to call 'home'.

When I got up to put my stuff in the locker, I turned round to find my towel had been not so carefully placed on the floor - nice, eh?  Never mind - I can work out my frustrations in the gym!  God - that arm bike has never seen so much action in all the time it's been in that gym - mind you, I'm knackered now, and I can't even have chocolate to console my aches and pains with!!!

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