Family of One Deals with Miscreants at the Biltmore Gym

As I was working on the draft for this post, I pondered exactly why this particular subject could be considered relevant in a blog called Family of One. After all, each one of us has our particular annoyances at the gym whether an orphan or a quadruplet. But, it occurred to me that the reason I wanted to share these thoughts with you is because as a Family of One, I don't have the luxury of being able to regale a captive companion (i.e., spouse, significant other) with them. I am not sure if this is especially good or bad, but I do think that it is important for us to be able to process our annoying experiences through the lens of someone else to keep our perspective. I am counting on you to help me do that and thus prevent me from one day going completely ballistic in the gymnasium and risking expulsion as I did last year when I had the resistance set on 25 on the recumbent bicycle and almost had a heart attack.

To me, the overarching annoyance at the gym can be summed up very simply--it's only about me. You know that expression that we all use about our business plans--80% of the total is controlled by 20% of the customers? Well, that is what I think about the folks in a gym. 80% are perfectly lovely, considerate, well-behaved. They take the time to wipe off the machine with a wet towel before they leave, they only stay the alotted time, they make eye contact and smile pleasantly. But, that other 20%? Oh, boy! Do they ever make life miserable for the rest of us!

After watching how one person can ruin a workout for twenty, I decided that it was causing me too much stress to keep quiet. The principal rudeness is talking too loudly on a cell phone, followed closely by chatting with others in a loud tone.I did not want to become known as the local bee-yotch, but nor did I want to be known as that middle-aged plump lady who will put up with anything. I established a five minute zone during which the person is allowed to blab as loudly as he likes. It quickly became obvious that there would need to be different strategies for different groups. For example, middle-aged to elderly women respond best to "SSSHSHSHSHHH" in a sharp hiss. Younger women respond to "Please be a little quieter" with a pleasant look. Men in general respond best to "sir, could I ask you to be a little quieter as I can hear you through my iPod on its highest volume?" These strategies have all worked out pretty well. I will be interested in what you say at your gym to such badly behaved gymnasts.

One of the more interesting exchanges--and just having an exchange is interesting because they so rarely happen--occurred a couple of weeks ago. I was on the elliptical next to a treadmill. A man in his late 20s who was obviously very important as illustrated by his high quotient of designer gym ware jumped on and immediately began taking calls on his blackberry which, unfortunately, had the same ringtone as mine. Every time it rang, I jumped out of my skin. He tried to make eye contact with me in a triumphant way to share his importance with me. Finally, I had enough. I said, "sir, your phone has the same ringtone as mine and it is completely ruining these few minutes when I am not a captive to it. Cell phones are not allowed here anyway, but I was going to let you get by with a brief conversation. But, this is becoming very tiresome". He smiled in a condescending way and said, "oh, you are mistaken. Cell phones are not banned here--just look at all of the people with them" and, as he said this, he looked around triumphantly, quizzically, despairingly. It was a beautiful sight because there were, of course, no cell phones to be seen. I smiled pleasantly and said, "I have three minutes left in my workout. May I ask you to silence your phone for those three minutes and, after I leave, you may return to talking and annoying the next person on this machine?" He begrudgingly agreed. But, guess what? When I left the gym twenty minutes later, he still had the phone turned off and exactly where he had left it!

The most annoying abuse of the machine that I have witnessed, however, did not revolve around a cell phone. There were four members of a family all using the ellipticals--a father (who was sporting a particularly heinous tank top and short shorts), a mother (late 40s, lots of bling), two lissome daughters fancying themselves to be Paris and Nicky Hilton. They had been on the machines longer than the allotted time, but showed no signs of getting off even though there were several of us waiting. In fact, they delighted in flaunting the fact that they were going to stay on the machines as long as they wanted! They treated them like an amusement park ride. They held hands in a long line of four while climbing; they turned around to face us and worked the levers backwards; they constantly gave each other high fives and screamed with laughter. I cannot tell you how much this was grating on me. You may ask why I simply didn't go to another type of machine, but, in the name of Madonna, I was going to get my workout on that elliptical. Finally, the mother stepped down in a fit of exhaustion, breathing heavily and doubling over. I leapt over and jumped on the machine with a dexterity that surprised everyone, especially me. Within seconds, another lissome daughter was at my side with a pouty face. "My mami said that I could have this machine and for you to get off". My response: "too bad".

When I first started going to the gym two years ago, I was approached by a wiry, older gentleman who was cute in a kind of aging leprechaun , Frank McCourt kind of way. He wanted me to show him how to use the various machines and it finally occurred to me that he was hitting on me. Indeed. His was a most direct approach: "The best lovemaking that I ever had in my life was with a large woman who lived on the Upper West Side of New York. You remind me so much of her. I am sure that I could have a better experience with you. I am happily married, but I would welcome the chance to get to know you better". I was fascinated by his approach--had I joined Plato's Retreat without realizing it? I have also been intrigued by a fellow named George who is about eight feet tall, approaching 70, bald, and has the loudest voice that I have ever heard. I was pondering how to get him to pipe down when I realized that he is considered the Biltmore Gym mascot, of a sort. Everyone knows him and tolerates his yelling because he is truly a kind guy and the gym is his main social outlet. So, I introduced myself to him and now I laugh and giggle with him and it is all very pleasant.

You might be wondering-ha, I bet Mary Jo has her moments of annoying others. I truly hope that I don't because I pride myself on being considerate in this world that can be so rude at times. But, I will confess to you that while on the recumbent bike the other day and, I swear, with no one around, I could not help myself from belting out the refrain to "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered", the fabulous song from Pal Joey.