Gym People: Mister Swing

March 24, 2010

Mister Swing: Mr. Swing carries a gigan-tastic gym bag. From the window, I’ve seen him haul it out of the passenger side of his minivan. It’s seriously the size of a St. Bernard.

Mr. Swing himself, however, more closely resembles a Pomeranian, with a classic “Class 3” underbite. He’s probably in his mid-50s, very compact, extremely flexible, and chews gum.

Mr. Swing arrives, stashes his huge bag in the locker room, fiddles around on a few weight machines, and then stretches on the treadmill for about 20 minutes while listening to something in his headphones.

After that, he just rocks it. He prances on the treadmill for a good hour, lip-syncing with feeling, hips swaying with every super-duper fast step, and appears to just have a ball. He’s fun to watch, but intimidating to be next to on the treadmill.

GYM PEOPLE UPDATE! Buongiornio: I went the the gym the other day alone, since my gal pal C had to move. I bumped into Buongiornio in the free weights, and she asked where my workout partner was.

I told her she was moving, and that she’d be back the next day. Buongiornio hesitated a moment before asking, “Now, is she from Italy?” I smiled, and replied, “Actually she’s from Colombia, South America.”

Buongiornio looked stricken, and in a small voice said, “I don’t know why, but I thought you two were speaking Italian.” Now I was the one who felt uncomfortable. I grinned and brightly said, “Awww, we were probably fooling around or something on the day you heard us, but generally we speak Spanish.”

She looked marginally relieved, and scurried away as soon as she finished her set. I felt almost guilty for telling her the truth – Poor Buongiornio!

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