Three years ago, almost to the day in fact, I was at work, wallowing in self-pity (because when you’re 23 and your first “real” job requires you to sit in a copy room all day and staple things for minimum wage, self-pity is a pre-req, the same way health insurance is not). This may have been the day I spent an hour doodling scenes involving my stick-figure bosses getting eaten by sharks and/or dangling over the edge of a crudely rendered pirate ship while my own stick-figure image hovered overhead safely in a helicopter. I digress…
Certain things come to you when you’re stuck in a place like that. I don’t mean “revelations” or “epiphanies”, the answers to all life’s questions. I mean, literally, the universe drops things onto your lap to keep you from overdosing on your allergy meds. Television Without Pity, for example. The saving grace that is IM. And The Best of Craigslist.
Best of Craigslist is where I first read the post below. And because I’m a very smart girl (like thousands of other people were, apparently), I clicked on the itty bitty link on the bottom and found the blog from whence it came. If I want to be overly dramatic about the whole affair, I can say it saved my life. But let’s take a chill pill instead and just say that it made me laugh in a very dark place. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you say?
I’ve read She Walks every day since then. It can be, in turn, blisteringly funny, real, and achingly sad but it’s always honest and endlessly interesting- as the best blogs tend to be. What better place to share it than here? I mean, that is the whole point after all.
Why Yes, Cute Fireman, That *IS* My Ass
April 13, 2005
curves for women is a great place to work out if you are like me. and by that i mean overweight and out of shape and really not okay with the idea of getting on the treadmill next to some 19 year old who weighs 14 pounds and is wearing a sports bra and running shorts and talking on a cell phone that is way cooler than yours.
right. so the way curves works is that they have a circuit, and you go around alternating between cardio stations and hydraulic machines in a set pattern.
sort of like this:(picture “courtesy” of their website, completely without permission)
except the excessive smiling seen here is total bullshit.
anyway. not featured in the pirated picture is this machine thing that you are going to have to try and envision. you stand on it, and lean forward while some thing supports your chest, and then you lift one foot, and push your foot backwards against a different thing. sort of like… um…this:
okay. now imagine that while you’re happily (but not as happily as those bullshit women in the picture) working out, you are suddenly surrounded by three very loud firetrucks.
[if you do not live in a city, you might find this cause to stop what you’re doing and find out what the firetruck activity is about. but when you do live in a city, you assume that loud noises — even those being emitted from firetrucks 15 feet from you — are not cause for concern unless you are directly instructed that yes, your building is actually on fire and yes, you should probably leave.]
however, despite the fact that not one of the women working out stopped what they were doing to find out if our building was on fire, every one of us was straining to look through the big windows and glass doors to see the firemen. because this is how city-dwelling women are.
and anyway, the woman running the place did eventually saunter outside (muttering, i should add, “he’s a cute one”) to ask a fireman what was going on, only to discover that some suspicious “cooking fumes” caused the alarm and there was nothing to be concerned about (see?).
but here is the point. the cooking fumes were extinguished and all the firemen left, just in time for me to reach the kick machine illustrated above. and so i did my reps. and then when i was finished, i looked up, and i realized that a SECRET and SILENT truck had pulled up DIRECTLY outside the window that was DIRECTLY behind the machine and so about a half-dozen firemen were parked in such a way as to be DIRECTLY FACING MY ASS.
sort of like this:
i am so proud.