free stats Carmen's Web: And They Say Chivalry is Dead
Thursday, November 02, 2006
And They Say Chivalry is Dead
About a year ago at the gym I got into a fight with this troll of a woman who gave me a nasty attitude.

I was on the treadmill, running, adrenalin pumping, feeling good, when she tapped me on my waist. I took my headphones off and heard her say, "excuse me, but how long are you going to be?" I pointed to the time on the treadmill; I was too out of breath to answer her question. "Well, I need to use the machine and you're taking too long. You should get off."

I was so taken aback that I told her I'd cut the time short and that I needed just another ten minutes. I put my headphones back on and as I was running I started wondering what the hell possessed me to acquiesce to her inappropriate command. I had never been spoken to like that in my life and I guess the demand just threw me off balance. Who in the world talks to people like this?

I ran faster, pissed off at myself for having allowed this horrid woman to talk to me like that. I saw her reflection in the mirror standing behind me, waiting for me to get off. When exactly ten minutes had passed by she came and tapped me on the waist again.

"I'm not getting off. Go to another treadmill," I managed to say between breaths.

"But you said you only needed ten minutes!"

"I am NOT getting off. Use another treadmill."


"Listen. You see that sign right there? That sign says machine use is limited to 30 minutes during PEAK hours. We're not in peak hours. And what's more, there's a treadmill right there you can use."

"But I don't like that treadmill."

"I am NOT getting off."

I couldn't believe her nerve! WHO DOES THAT??????! What I really wanted to do was get off the treadmill and say, "Here you go ma'am. You need this workout more than I do." But that would have been rude and if there's one thing I'm not, it's rude.

I went to the gym after work today to release a lot of pent up frustration. Between shit at work, home, and with the boyfriend this past week I've been just about ready to take a gun and shoot myself in the head. It was either going to the gym or to the morgue.

I'm on the treadmill again. And guess who shows up. I saw her from the corner of my eye and although bad memories crept up I didn't think that our paths would really cross. Fifteen minutes into my workout I find her standing next to the treadmill.

"Excuse me, but how long are you going to take?"

NO WAY is this happening again. I stared at her and told her I had 45 minutes left. She looked at the time on the treadmill and said, "but that means you'll have been working out for an hour. You can't do that."

NO WAY IS THIS HAPPENING AGAIN. I mean really, what are the chances?

"I'm not getting off this treadmill. Use another one."

She recognized me and muttered something under her breath.

"Excuse me, I didn't hear you." I'm still running, not skipping a step.

"I said I remember you. You've been working out for a year and you've still got a fat ass."

Oh no she didn't. She did NOT just talk about my ass like that.

I slammed my hand down on the emergency stop button. Now, I'm not a fighter. The last time I got into a physical fight was over 20 years ago and it was only because I needed to defend myself. But my fat ass was about to pound her shitty one into a pulp. Blame it on the pumped adrenalin and the horrible week.

The only thing that saved this woman was the man working out next to me. As I was about to step off the treadmill I heard him say to her, "If you had this woman's ass maybe you'd get laid more often and you wouldn't have that nasty attitude".

I wonder if it's still chivalry if a man defends your honor from a woman's catty remarks...
Thoughts shared by Carmen at 7:40 PM
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Who: Carmen

xx-something egyptia-yorker who's spent over half her life stuck in two worlds not of her own making. unable and unwilling to fully embrace one identity over the other, she created (is trying to create) her own place in the world where people love each other unconditionally, irrespective of artificial boundaries, and where dancing merengue is as necessary to life as breathing air.

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