Poison Tipped Blow Darts

It was during my third rep of bicep curls (yes I do lift) when I realized a huge oversight of the modern gym. The floors and walls are littered with a confetti of mirrors, weighted objects, and modern fitness equipment which more closely resembles medieval torture machines. The space is populated with Lycra clad fitness enthusiasts, labored grunts, wheezing, and the demands of personal trainers. Hoping to drown out the peacocking antics of most gym men, the speakers pump some mediocre music over the system. The music attempts to relate to all lifters, but instead only becomes noticeable when a truly horrible song is played. This is the modern gym, for better or for worse. There are many different types of people that use the gym; but only one that truly drives me crazy. I call this person the treadmill mouth. They do little actual physical work, instead laboring their mouth in a non-stop garble of meaningless drama. The gym to them is cheap therapy, substituting the comforts of a professional's couch for the yoga mat and a half ass abdominal regimen. They drone on about relationships, or complain about how hard this is, or mock their friends, or pat their own back while placing themselves on a higher pedestal. The rest of us get to be a helpless audience in their dramatic production. Now to be fair sometimes you learn some truly hilarious things about people. But no person should have to hear a woman tell her trainer that the exercise she is hardly performing is less enjoyable than her last Pap smear. There are some things you cannot un-hear! So I purpose that gyms now come equipped with poison tipped blow darts (non-lethal) and blow guns. When one of these treadmill mouths pushes you beyond the limit, give their mouth the rest is so deserves. Pick up the gun and give it a nice go. You will feel better and your fellow gym mate will thank you.