Leave Britney Alone!

This post began as an entreaty to get guys to leave chicks the fuck alone in the gym on Valentine’s Day and became a rather dire insight into my 1) total lack of game and 2) complete inability to understand women.  In any event, I find it amusing, if for no other reason than I manage to get laid in spite of myself.

Over the course of my 18 years of lifting, I’ve noticed a trend even more disturbing than the fashion choices of 1990’s era bodybuilders and even less logical- the tendency for guys who are clearly outclassed in terms of physique and intellect to annoy the fuck out of serious chick lifters in the gym.  They will follow those broads hither and thither, offering “advice” like they're Tony Robbins on speed and make a fucking production out of mixing their NO2 shake while they flex their 15” pythons.  The serious chicks are generally  exasperated by this unwanted intrusion, but for some reason deign to remove their headphones long enough to reply to those fucking jabroni and then try to get a set in.  At some point, they then find themselves pinned between said jabroni and a piece of equipment, incapable of movement unless they bodily force their way past the orange-tinged asshole, knocking him and his ridiculous peri-workout shake to the ground on the way to another piece of equipment.

Sweden appears to have a very serious problem on their hands.

The most interesting thing about these encounters is that other than the occasional not-grimace in the general direction of the male populace of the gym, these broads don’t appear to be initiating contact with anyone around them.  As such, I’m left to wonder what the fuck enters into the minds of these dickbags as they saunter over and begin their harangue about how she should keep her pinkies up during lateral raises or whatever the fuck it is they blather about.  In any event, it’s a fucking disgrace.

Due in large part to the fact that I like to be left right the fuck alone in the gym, I assume other serious lifters feel the same way.  That, combined with the fact that they’re usually under seige by assholes throughout their workout, I never even make eye contact with chicks in the gym if it can possibly be helped.  If I notice them checking me out, I will do the utterly ridiculous and walk the long way around the gym to get to the water fountain so as not to go near them.  Fuck, I’ll generally do that irrespective of whether or not they've looked in my direction.  I do not, however, ever engage them in casual conversation.  I’m there to lift, they’re there to lift, and there’s no reason why I would fuck that up in order to make some half-assed attempt to bang a chick from the gym.  If you’ve not noticed, fellas, that shit usually ends in fucking disaster, anyway.

There's a better chance that I'd squat while standing on a bosu ball than chat Rizylex Rivera up in the gym.

One instance wherein this causes problems with the aforementioned females is when I’m talking to a couple.  I generally address the guy, out of respect and to forestall any weirdness that might arise as a result of any perceived flirting (I’m incapable of telling when I’m being flirted with and have game so bad it makes the skinny fuck from Superbad seem like Ryan Gosling), and ignore the chick.  This has, on more than one occasion, caused some bitching out of the girl from a distance but within earshot of what a misogynistic asshole I am.  Though I am an asshole and find misogyny hilarious, my intent’s often misconstrued.  As such, I generally just avoid talking to couples as well.

I was discussing this with a friend who's a female Olympic weightlifter recently, and she found my position to be about as sensible as the skinny gay guy's wardrobe choices on Big Bang Theory.  Amusingly, I signed her up at her first gym and have no recollection of doing so, in spite of the fact that I broke her balls like a steamroller on a Putt-Putt course throughout the process.  Bear in mind, in reading this, that I know perhaps five peoples’ names from that gym (only because I worked there), although I have been lifting at that gym off and on for over ten years.  As such, it is perhaps my status as a social leper and pariah that’s led to my opinion on on chicks in the gym, though I can name at least three chicks who’ve thanked me for telling guys to fuck right off after watching them badger the holy shit out of the chick for an hour. As such, I am perhaps not completely insane.  In any even, here’s Spugs’ opinion on the subject:

So here, Mr. CNP presents an interesting opinion on females lifting in the gym.  It’s an opinion that I obviously don’t share (as has already been pointed out,) but I do believe has some validity.  However, I see a logical fallacy that seems to fit CNP’s personality— he deems that because he wants to be “left the fuck alone” in the gym as a “serious lifter,” every other like-minded lifter will appreciate and want the same.  He also asserts that the only people who talk to females in the gym are Arnold wannabes who spend more money on spray tan than their actual education, but that also seems to be a repercussion of his own action or, rather, inaction.  He’s the one ignoring the chick, allowing these boneheads the opportunity to give unsolicited “advice,” and in effect, furthering the idea that female lifters should be left the fuck alone, whether it be in the weightlifting community or in the gym itself.    

Unwittingly and unintentionally a total asshole to every chick in a gym where I've lifted for almost 2 decades.

I guess I have a bit of a different background on this whole gym thing.  First off, I have a vagina.  That’s right, boys— a vagina! I’m assuming from this point forward that the majority of people reading this believe that women are a strange species who act as irrationally as Whitney Houston on crack.[  Too soon?  I think not. (it is, however, wholly redundant to write “Whitney Houston on crack”, as that was her default state- ed.)] Well, I might just concede that point because… well… I can’t win this one.  I also started weightlifting in a bit of an interesting way—I started playing rugby, decided that I wanted to start pushing some bitches around on the field, and wandered into Iron Sport Gym.  Thinking back, it was probably the best and worst decision of my life.  I learned the basics (squat, deadlift, and bench,) the Olympic lifts, and eventually some Strongman.  I had the best coaching that one could possibly want and a community of lifters who talked shop and were actual friends.  But when I left Iron Sport for bigger and better things [read: college,] I had a bit of an awakening.  I was spoiled rotten at that gym.  I had never experienced a dickbag coming up to me and telling me to raise my pinkies on a lateral raise for two reasons: one, I did none of those shenanigans and two, there was a sense of respect in that gym for every lifter who came in every day and left everything on the platform, no matter the gender. 

Just off-camera, some asshole in Under Armor is lunging toward her, barking about her pinkies.

I would say the thing I’m getting at is the sense of community that CNP does not want for himself.  It’s understandable but interesting, nonetheless.  It might be just me, but if I go through an entire two hour workout and leave without seeing a friendly face or chatting just for a little bit, I get a little squirrely.   Maybe, it’s the vagina talking, but I would say that I’m not alone in this.  However, I do think I need to clarify just who is a friendly face and what chatting actually amounts to.  A friendly face is someone who had the balls to come up to me, to introduce him- or herself, and either to ask an intelligent question or just to bullshit.  In effect, none of this “pinkie raise” shit. 


In some ways, it depends on how you think of weightlifting in general.  Do you view it as a sport or do you see it as something totally personal?  This is where, I think, CNP and I diverge.  I see Olympic style as a sport, as with powerlifting and Strongman, that denotes a community of like-minded thinkers who share common goals.  [I do, in fact, consider the aforementioned to be sports, but don’t associate myself with any of them.  That’s not because I think I transcend them or am better than them, but rather because my training style doesn’t fit theirs and thus excludes me therefrom.] Because these individuals share common goals, they have business to talk about, whether it be form, supplements, diet, etc.  So these people talk, develop bonds, and benefit from doing so.  The sport doesn’t discriminate by gender—it discriminates by inherent talent, hard work, and in essence, giving a fuck.  Building a group that shares all of those ideas only allows every individual within that group the knowledge, guidance, and examples that keeps someone going. 

So in effect, I ask you on Valentine’s Day not to leave Britney alone in the gym but be willing to accept her as a weightlifter and know limits on just how much to say and what to say.  No one wants his or her ear talked off, so be reasonable with it.  If you’re a decent lifter with something intelligent to say, I would suggest going for it—because your actions, dedication, and sheer tonnage in the gym speak louder than anything that could come out of your mouth.         
         
In other words, people, there is the rare occasion that I have no idea whatsoever what the fuck I’m talking about, and ladies, this is why I generally avoid giving you people advice- I understand you about as well as Rick Santorum understands quantum mechanics.

But wait!  Apparently, Spugs and I were coming from two sides of the spectrum.  A quick google search for pics for this thing actually yielded an article about as misguided as an Iraqi scud missile written by a Pick Up Artist for AskMen.com, which included the following:

“Essentially, there are two types of women that work out in the gym: the mutes and the chatterers. Knowing one from the other will help you focus the right charm and the correct moves on the woman you want with minimal trial and error.

The Mute

Consider this woman one to avoid. She is there to exercise and will see your approaches as an annoyance. She’s there to workout, not to be bothered by your attempts at game. Leave her be.
Spot the mute: Her workout attire normally includes a baseball cap, earphones, an MP3 player, and water. She avoids eye contact and conversation with others. She looks at the floor as she moves from machine to machine.

The Chatterer
Here’s your target. The Chatterer is there to meet people and you’re there to meet her. She likes to socialize and converse. The Chatterer enjoys working out, hanging out with friends, checking her Facebook status, getting some male attention, and boosting her self-esteem.
Spot the chatterer: Being a social creature, she will normally gravitate to the water fountain before the exercise equipment. She’s there to talk more than to workout. Her training regimen is sporadic and her technique is probably in need of some work. This is a perfect chance to swoop in and give her some pointers. Consider even inviting her to train with you.”
I seem to always find myself encountering the former and either ignoring the latter or simply never coming into contact with them. (Player)

LET'S GO SARGING!  Jesus Tittyfucking Christ.

This gets to a distinction that we haven’t really discussed in the article-- the difference between a real lifter and someone like “the Chatterer.”  I would say I worked with a general assumption that the women who need to be left alone are the females who are serious lifters that don't get trapped by some moron in a conversation.  I don’t think I would call “the Chatterer” a serious lifter-- I wouldn’t call “the Chatterer” a lifter to begin with.  And, I couldn’t give a fuck whether or not guys come up to this sort of person because she’s usually looking for it.    

I think, however, a useful distinction can be pulled from that monstrosity of an article, which is that people should pick their battles in the gym.  If a chick seems congenial and open to discussion, aka "The Chatterer", people should utilize Spugs' advice.  If she’s a mute, stay the fuck away- if she wants to talk, she will.

And this is where the crazy of women starts to show.  We aren’t going to initiate a conversation.  Seriously.  We may want to, but we don’t.  It’s irrational as all hell, but the fear of getting a cold response from a fellow lifter will cause many not to open their mouths at all.  

... and also justifies my reticence to speak to them at all.  In it's place, I will usually drop the "what's up" nod at a chick- a slight, abrupt inclination of the chin.  Speaking of that- what is your take on a guy giving you the “what’s up?” nod in the gym?  As you can well imagine, that’s about the limit of my interaction with chicks at the gym, save for one or two whom I’ve been roped into addressing directly, much to my (amusing to others) discomfiture.  Good idea or bad?

It depends.  If the nod comes from a regular, it is seen as a sign of respect and sheer acknowledgement.  If it’s one of those creepy “come hither, I want to bang you” nods, it will not be accepted well.  Usually in disgust, in fact.

I’ve not seen one of those, I don’t think, unless it’s the move that’s the sole purview of black men at clubs, and is often accompanied by an air kiss or a wink.

Yep.  Those are the ones.  I thought I was going to vomit the last time I got one of those (that and the real risk of getting raped leaving the gym after my workout.)   

Don't be this guy.

So, lessons learned: 1) I am socially retarded, 2) pick your conversational targets in the gym, be respectful, and don’t talk to chicks if you’re a shitty lifter, and 3) try your hardest not to be black.

Enjoy your day of commercialized romanticism as shoved down your throats by Hallmark and Chaucer!

Sources:
Player, The.  “The Player: How To Pick Up Women At The Gym” http://www.askmen.com/dating/player/36_love_games.html