The Smack Heard 'Round the World...er, Gym...

This is one of my more popular blogs from Facebook, January 17, 2009....

Saturday morning started out as any normal weekend day. I woke up, got some things cleaned up around the house, ate my banana, and headed out to the gym. For your reference, I work out at the Gold's Gym on Park Center. There I was, enjoying a nice run on the treadmill at about 5.7 mph, when it happened. Out of the corner of my eye, not more than 10 feet away from me, a woman probably in her late 30's walks up to another woman (probably around my age) and SMACKS her right across the face. (From the point on, they will be referred to as the smacker and the smackee).

Moving on - It wasn't one of those smacks that you experience when you're dreaming. You know, the one where no matter how hard you try, it comes off as kind of a pussy-ish smack. No, this was one HARD smack that I could hear, even with my ear phones blasting Irene Cara's "What a Feeling". I was so startled by what I'd just seen - I almost fell off my treadmill. I actually had to stop running for a minute to digest the violence I'd just been exposed to. I began glancing around to find out who else had seen what I'd seen. Sure enough, the women occupying the treadmills to the right and left of me are in an equal state of shock as we look at each other wondering, "Did that just happen?" We watch, our jaws on the floor, as the smacker says to the smackee, "You're so evil." The smackee then walks around the smacker, down the stairs, and out the door without ever saying a word but with a huge red mark across her right cheek. The smacker then jumps on a treadmill, makes eye contact with noone, and commences her workout.

Since there appears to be no imminent danger, I resume the last 10 minutes of my run, never taking my eyes off the smacker. After all, I don't want her sneaking up on me. I finish my run, do some stretching and cool down exercises, and then proceed to the front desk so I can, in true good Samaritan form, inform the proper authorities. As I recall the tale to the 18 year old pop tart working the front desk, I am increasingly aware of her lack of concern. I suggest maybe talking to the smacker to determine whether or not this was a random act. The pop tart then laughs and says, "Hopefully she's working out her frustration so she doesn't smack again." Unimpressed with her lack of action, I tell her, "Hopefully this isn't a random act of smacking because who knows who'd be next? And what about her comment of the smackee being "so evil"? Perhaps she is a religious random smacker? I don't go to church - how do I know I'm safe? I will say that if the next random smackee turns out to be ME, there will be a problem." I leave the gym, slightly disappointed that my dilligence in reporting the crime hadn't spurred them into immediate action...and, consequently, a level of gratitude for my bravery in coming forward.

Anyway, with the act of the smacker behind me, I will once again brave the gym tonight. I will, however, be keeping an eye out for the smacker. I tell you this in hopes that you will stay alert to any strange happenings in your gym so that you, too, aren't a victim of random smacks.