second time, Kirsten grabs her gym bag off the floor, pushes her boombox bot away, and heads out of the workout room through the rear exit.
Well, that was strange. She’s the third person to get rid of their robots in my presence. What happened to everyone being so psyched about their amazing robots? I don’t know, and I don’t bloody well care. As long as they’re all keeping those malfunctioning contraptions away from me, I’m perfectly content.
Sweaty ladies wearing baggy gangster style street-dance ensembles, exit the gym. A new batch of fresh-faced and dry women wearing tight spandex enter the workout room about five minutes later. Brenda heads to the front of the gym and turns on the main music system that reverberates techno dance tunes on low volume throughout.
“All right everyone!” She says bouncily while bouncing up and down on her trainer clad heels. For a sixty year old woman, her spandex clothes and buff outer appearance certainly belays any signs of aging within. “Thank you for joining me for my first exercise-ball class. We can all get started with warm ups on the balls!”
Warm ups on balls? My wayward mind strays to dodgy thoughts that have nothing to do with regular aerobics and more to do with sexual exercises that I’m sure abnormal people wouldn’t mind getting into—
“Emily!” Brenda’s shouting snaps my wandering brain back to reality. “Here you go!” She rolls a ma-hoosive blue exercise ball my way. The thing bounces over floor mats before I bend and stop it rolling out the gym door.
“All right, everyone.” Brenda bellows. “Let’s start with some leg warm-ups. Just ease onto your balls like this.” She squats and points her rear-end at her bright pink exercise ball. The thing is probably half the size of her, but that’s only because she such a short petite woman. Her bum lands safely on the ball and she starts rocking back and forth.
She’s definitely eased onto her ball with complete success. As for me, I’m not so sure about this endeavour. I stare doubtfully at my blue exercise ball. I have my doubts about whether or not the thing can hold my weight. Everyone else in the room has bravely sat onto their balls (I don’t know why it makes me internally giggle every time I think about balls-sitting) except for one other woman and myself.
She’s a lovely blonde, like me, and she probably weighs the same as I do. While everyone else attending this class isn’t exactly stick thin, I think me and the other remaining standing woman are the heaviest two in the class. When she sits onto her ball, her facial expression reveals that she must have the same trepidations that I’m experiencing. Her ball doesn’t burst though, and I witness first hand the sigh of relief that escapes her lips.
Figuring it’s okay now, I point my own arse at my exercise ball and lean back. I go down too quickly though.
“Whooooo!” I shout, losing my balance. The ball beneath my butt doesn’t pop, it shoots out from under me and I land splat on my tail bone. “Ouch.” I mumble as tears of pain spring into my eyes.
“My love!”
Rolling over onto my tummy reveals a horror of horrors to my un-false-lash-clad eyes. Thomas is booking it towards me.
“What the hell?” I screech as everyone in the class turns to look at me.
Brenda jumps up off her ball, shuts off the music that’s echoing throughout the room and meets Thomas halfway. “Leave her be, boy.” She turns and crouches down next to me. “Are you alright love? We really need to be getting on with the rest of the lesson.”
“Of course she’s not all right!” Thomas kneels down and before I can roll away (I’m not about to stand up yet as my backside is throbbing) the blonde kid reaches out and plants his hand directly onto my left butt-cheek.
In the words of American Kirsten on an anger-front, I slap the moron’s hand away. “Oh no you didn’t!” I screech and get to my feet. The pain in my tail bone is bearable compared to the harassment I’d have to endure if I’d chosen to remain in a vulnerable prostrate position. “Come with me, you sexually harassing little…”
I stop before swearing my head off. Everyone is looking at me. I do halfway care about further embarrassing myself, but only just. I refrain from further curse words.
“You little so-and-so.” Is the only name calling I give to Thomas as I practically