It was packed at the gym tonight. Guys taking up every available piece of of equipment and yucking it up with their friends instead of getting down to business and giving other people a turn. You know, like any other day at the Y.

So I’m waiting for this guy to finish at the bench press, which apparently bothered him because it meant he couldn’t take 20 damn minutes in betweens sets, so he starts speaking very pointedly to his friend about how “girls ought to have their own weight room” with “pink dumbbells and Pilates mats” so the “men could lift in peace”.

Which of course was loud enough for not only me to hear but everyone around us.

So I held my tongue and stared him down until such time that he was finished and he asks me sarcastically “I suppose you need me to un-rack all this weight for you too?”

“Not at all”, I replied and slapped another 10 pounds on top of what he had lifted, which is waaaaaay more than I normally bench, but I’d be damned if I would be spoken to in that manner (especially by a schmuck like him) without redress.

And luckily, I was pissed off enough to do a really good set.

Only now, I can’t lift my arms above my head and it took me 15 minutes to put on a sweater.

But it was worth it, to wipe the smug look off that jackass’s face, because he was just out-benched by a GIRL.

And even though I am in some wicked-bad pain, tomorrow, I’m going to pop some ibuprofen, suck it up, go to the gym, find that guy and whatever he’s lifting, I’m going to lift more.

Because he’s a jackass.

And I clearly have passive aggressive issues.

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