Back at the gym

As you can probably tell, I work out. You don't get this "comedian's physique" without working at it.

I've heard, and from someone who would know, that Carrot Top is ripped up. I mean seriously strong. It's probably a byproduct of the physical nature of his show-- constantly lifting and holding up props. Still, he must work at it. I'm not saying he's on the juice (Carrot juice?), but you just don't get cut like that from holding up a toilet with training wheels. My friend also said that Top's feminine facial features are oddly mesmerizing. Like I didn't already know that.

Comedians and physical fitness go WAY back. Forget about Joe Piscopo blowing up like Lou Ferrigno in the 80's. Milton Berle was "gifted" in more ways than one. It was said he could do forty fingertip pushups with Jayne Mansfield on his back. Or hers. Speaking of equipment....

I'm at the gym getting my pump on when I notice this piece of equipment I'd never seen before. I hate not knowing how to use a piece of equipment at the gym.

"Why don't you just ask someone how to use it?" Ask someone? Out there on the spandex-covered plains of the Serengeti? Come now.

It would mean the loss of my manhood. It would mark me as the weakest gazelle at the watering hole, no one would want to mate with me and eventually I'd be devoured by a pride of lions coming out of a pilates class.

So I did a couple of fly-by's. I nonchalantly strolled past the mystery machine. (No, not that Mystery Machine. "Zoinks, Scoob! Would it kill you to wipe down the seat after your set?") As I get close, I'm looking for clues as to how it works. Is it for the arms or the legs? Push or pull? Sit or stand?

After a couple of fly-by's, I felt ready to give it a shot. I went over and sat down.

An uncomfortable minute or so passed as I realized I still had no idea how this thing worked. Fuck. Now what?

Well, what else could I do? I sat there and pretended to be resting. What, you think I'm going to ask someone now? Having sat down and failed the gym equipment IQ test? Uh-uh. No, the scenario I was playing out was, "maybe I stop coming to the gym for awhile. Turnover's pretty high here, so in six months or so nobody will be around who remembers me."

Just then a gym employee came over. "Did you want to work in here?" I asked him.

"No," he said. "But I am going to need you to get off the floor polisher."

"Oh right!" I said as I dismounted. "I was just resting between sets."

I went off to find a machine I was more familiar with. I bought a gatorade from it.