An Open Letter to the people at my gym:

To The Grunter: As you lift, you fill the gym with your groans, moans, and barbaric yawps. Some of your sounds defy description. After particularly heightened cries you’ll smash your free weights to the floor as an added exclamation. Yes, we all know you are working out really hard and we know you like the attention, but every person in the gym wants you to shut up. By the way… lose the ponytail and the “No Fear” t-shirt. I wonder what you sound like during sex? Yikes.

To Shower Honker: What you do in your own shower is your own business. Sure, I occasionally like to clear the nasal passages in the heat of my own shower… But when you share the shower room with 5 other people, we would appreciate you NOT covering the floor with your snot. Thanks.

To Nude Guy: Yes you have a nice body. But you’re making everyone uncomfortable. Why do you need to talk on your cell phone in the middle of the locker room completely naked? Why does it take you 20 minutes to generously apply lotion to every crack and crevice you possess? Why do you have to blow-dry your skin instead of using a towel? And why do you have to (oh so lovingly) blow-dry your pubes in front of the mirror while inspecting your abs? Please stop.

To Creepy Rowing Machine Guy: We all know why you choose the rowing machines; because they’re positioned right behind the Stairmasters. Every other night, like clockwork, this is where you position your pear-shaped 46-year-old body so you can stare at women’s asses. The fact that you wear a headband and listen to a 1987 Walkman only adds to your creepiness. I bet you drive a white, windowless van. Also, you could at least pretend to work out… a new born hamster on a wheel generates more power than your so-called “rowing.”

To Walking Pharmacy: I've never seen anyone carry that many juices, powders and pills around with them. You have more plastic baggies then a crack dealer. You're like a walking GNC. Apparently they work because you're built like Stallone (circa 1985). The side effect is a ton of back acne. That’s a real conundrum now isn’t it? You have great muscles but they’re covered in festering pimples. Swing by my locker for some Proactiv Solution.

To Ipod Guy on The Treadmill In The Corner:
When you sing those Mariah Carey and Justin Timberlake songs… We can all hear you. I notice you get more bold with each minute you spend running… by the end of your 30 minute jog you’re hitting high notes with emotion. It’s sad. You sound horrible.
Go for a run in the desert… you can sing all you want there.

To Skinny Old Guy: You're pretty cool. I like you. That's why I'm going to recommend that you try lifting less weight. You're strong for your size, but I'm surprised you're still alive. I’ve taken CPR class specifically for you… pray I’m around when you go down.
Thank you for making every evening at the gym more interesting and entertaining. I wouldn't change any of you. Except for you, Mr. Shower Honker. That's just sick.