This is the story of how I made the most noise in a washroom I’ve ever made in my life. And no, not in a gross or disgusting way.
To say I’m not a graceful, coordinated person is a massive understatement. I have fallen while walking in a (relatively) straight line on even ground. It’s a talent that I have spent almost 28 years honing. Through determination, focus and commitment I feel that I have, at long last, achieved expert level of un-coordination. Gold star me!
Last week I went to the gym after work – another gold star for me! I took my bag containing my gym clothes into a bathroom stall with me (because my gym is too ghetto to have change rooms – but then again I pay less than $20/month so…) and proceeded to get changed.
After the introductory paragraph I provided you may not be surprised to read the following, but let me assure you I have successfully changed my clothes in those bathroom stalls many a time without incident. This time, however, my goddamned clothes attacked me!
My shirt tried to straitjacket me, causing me to elbow the freaking wall numerous times.
My pants did trip me, making me shoulder check the stall door – I’m pretty sure all other bathroom stalls shook from the awesome power that my shoulder check wields even when unintentional. Plus I had to hop around in the confines of the stall and try not to trip on my bag – yaaaaa that didn’t happen.
Arms flailed, clothes flew; the battle was epic. In the end I won, or so I thought. When I finally emerged from the stall, battered and bruised, my mp3 player was no where to be found! It must have fallen out in my car, except I don’t think it was anything as innocent as that. Seems to me it was one last “fuck you” from my gym bag. Stay tuned to see what inanimate object attacks me next!