Gym

A reminder of why I try to avoid going to the gym at peak lunch hours: patrons draped over the equipment gossiping like fishwives. Gentlemen, if you wanted to bend each others’ ears, you could have done it at the pub.

Still, there’s always the unintentional humour; nothing beats the amusement value of watching a couple of young blokes using a deadlift machine to grunt and scream their way into lifting weights for a few poorly-controlled, albeit machine-assisted reps, then high-fiving each other. You’re doing it wrong.