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Monday, June 27, 2011

#24 Gym Conversation

Preface: I am writing this on the eve of my 30th birthday, in which I am in a state of moderate depression,  looking back at how my 20's went; contemplative about youth in general. 

Entry: We have a gym in the building.  It's a standard, no frills gym with your usual machines, weights, and a two-person wooden sauna.  It sounds fancy and Euro, right?  It's not.  It's just a hot box.  I hate being up there when other tenants are in there. Usually, I'm trying to work out, and they're just complaining to me about general and personal shit.  There's also those awkward non-verbal acknowledgements and small talk about working out. I hate it.

The last time I went to workout, there was someone in the sauna singing R&B... and not well.  I thought "that's embarrassing" and got on the elliptical.  A minute in, this guy comes out of the sauna (in street clothing, not gym attire) and asks me,
"Hey, do you know about music?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Can you listen to me sing this and tell me what you think of the lyrics? I gotta turn this song in tomorrow to Trey Songz's producer.  He said it's gonna be a hit."
And he starts to sing this R&B song that he's reading from a crumbled up piece of paper. I can't understand a word he's saying, but from what I can tell, it's the standard, terrible slow-jam rhetoric about sex.  After he's done singing, he stares at me, waiting for a response.  I ask to see his lyrics.

Now in my hand is this notebook paper of chicken scratch and spelling errors of a song titled "Beautiful Romance":
"I'm gon put your hed on a pillow...make you look rite like a bow tie...you gonna be mine..." the usual affair.  I actually give this dude real criticism:
"You know, the subject isn't anything special, and the guy is basically saying he wants to have sex with this girl, and is that the beautiful romance?  Are you going to hand this to him, because you should type it and present it well.  Also, "right like a bow tie," what does that even mean?  Is it because you are trying to rhyme with a word that sounds like "tie"?  You should rethink that..."
"Yeah, you're right, I want to make people think..."
He then goes on and on about how he's a song-writer, a producer, a dancer, developing a vodka where the bottle turns into a bong, and 'working on' owning a few casinos.  He also said he's writing a script, and that he's an actor.
"Oh, I'm an actor, too.  I am the manager of this building, so I don't have to pay rent and which allows me to be an actor."
"Oh yeah?  What are you in? I don't live in this building. I live in the building down the street. I come to this gym because it's quieter than my gym, and it lets me concentrate."
"How do you get in here if you don't live here?"
"Do you know Jewel Arms?  He's my friend that lets me in.  I also don't have to pay rent either.  It's because I live with my mom.  I'm 16."

By now, 15 minutes have gone by.  (I know this since I'm on a timed elliptical.)  For 15 minutes, I've been talking to a 16 year old like a fucking adult.  I just thought he was stupid, turns out, he's stupid because he's an idiot teenager.  The moment he tells me his age, I switch into a different mode:
"You gotta finish school, and go to college, kid!...What do you know about romance anyway?....Maybe you should start small like, aspire to buy a house before you buy a casino...save your money."
I continue telling this kid lessons of life, and by then an additional 15 minutes have gone by, and I've finished my cardio.  
Turns out, the best way to pass time while exercising is talking to a clueless, name-dropping 16 year old.
I have no idea who this is.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Met dis little cutie - usin an elliptical
I start singin - yo- she say it's cryptical
I'm tryna say I'd get her straight just like a bow-tie
No lie
Dis honey booty mad fly.

El Rom said...

I'm pretty sure the vodka bottle bong or something similar has been invented a few million times by a few million stoners of all ages...along with the entire taco bell menu.

Natalia said...

Ha ha Kids these days....

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