Monday, October 08, 2007

Crazy Magnet

So there's a new crazy person at my gym. Well, I shouldn't say "new" as if to indicate that there was at some point an "old" crazy person at the gym. The Gold's Gym I go to tends to draw the more serious athletic types -- which made it even more surreal to see this guy meandering around while weight training Sunday morning. He was an older fellow -- I'd have to guess in his 50's -- and kind of disheveled with balding messy hair and an unkempt beard, in kind of a Bill Murray way, only if Bill Murray wasn't rich an eccentric but just some regular old poor weirdo. But it was the was how he was dressed that fully caught my attention. This man was wearing, to the Gold's Gym: bright blue pajama pants with ice cream cones and popsicles on them, a coordinating plain blue T-shirt, blue flannel shirt, (worn open over the T-shirt) a pair of red crocs with gym socks underneath, and wrap around silver shades with mirrored lenses. I am not making this up or exaggerating in any way whatsoever. Naturally, I was instantaneously amused and fascinated by this man, and climbed up to the assisted chin-up machine located conveniently in the middle of the gym floor, as to better observe my specimen.

I stayed there for about 10 minutes, doing about twice as many sets of chin-ups and dips as usual, watching him circulate around the leg and ab machines before I grew bored of my game and decided to call it a day. In the locker room on my way out, I ran into a woman named Mary -- a tiny, 5'2 female bodybuilder covered completely head to toe in tattoos whom I've become friendly with -- and we gossiped and giggled over the freak of the gym. We walked out together, and were still chatting about Cap'n Pajamas as she followed me to my car parked right out front -- at which point we both became distracted by the fact that someone with an identical car as mine had parked right next to me. Now, I drive kind of a noticeable vehicle: a bright blue (Malibu blue, to be precise) Ford Focus hatchback. This car was the exact same car -- same year, make, model and color. The only differences were that mine had a skull and crossbones vanity plate on the front and a custom stereo system inside. I laughed and said, "Oh, how funny! I bet she parked there on purpose. Or, I assume it's a 'she' anyway, since this is kind of a girly looking car..."

No sooner had the words come out of my mouth, Cap'n Pajamas exited from the building. And of course, I don't need to tell you where he was headed, right? Because how else could the comedic tragedy of my life unfold if the crazy man didn't have the same car as me? At this point, I already had my door open and had put my stuff down on my passenger seat, so there was no masking the fact that this was, in fact, my car. As he entered the vehicle, staring at us both, my voice wobbled as I tried to make some bullshit conversation about training or whatever as my cheeks blazed red and Mary stifled a laugh. So Cap'n Pajamas gets in his car, rolls down the windows all the way, cranks some crazy dance or disco music -- and proceeded to pull around in a circle in the parking lot, stopping about 15-20 feet away from us. Then he just sat there, (very conspicuously, what with the music blasting and all) watching us from his open window for a minute or two -- probably compiling whatever crazy data and mental notes in his head of the girl in the hot pink sports bra who had the same car as he did. What a turn of events! Suddenly the observer had become the observee.

After Cap'n Pajamas rolled off and I drove home, it suddenly occurred to me that I had met this man before. About a year ago, Mr. Salty and I were approaching the Saltymobile after leaving the Bed Bath and Beyond when some "retarded" guy came up to us to say that he liked our stereo system, and asked where we got it. (Mr. Salty customized it for me by powder coating the stereo console the same color as the exterior of the car, and found a mount for my iPod on ebay to connect to the stereo -- it's pretty bitchin', actually.) It was a little off-putting at the time, being that it was dark out, and the crazy man wouldn't have noticed the stereo unless he went up to the car and intentionally looked in the windows. I had completely forgotten about that -- but I bet Cap'n Pajamas didn't. So it looks like I may have made a have a new friend. Or admirer, or stalker, or potential future murderer. Actually, if you don't hear from me for a few days, you may wanna call the authorities.


Chez said...

I had the same problem at the gym, but with my penis. The crazy guy had exactly the same penis as me!

Go figure.

litelysalted said...

Hmm... That's not exactly the response I would have expected from you, Chez -- but hey, I'll roll with it!

Boo said...

damn, nothing worse than a crazy, stalker car twin.

but you gotta love that his pajamas match the hatch.

Beckylooo said...

I used to wear flannel pajama pants with pictures of breakfast on them to class in high school. If that makes me crazy, I don't want to be sane.

litelysalted said...

boo -- yes he definitely has a favorite color, that's for sure. Hope he never peeks in our window while I'm wearing my V's Secret blue polka-dotted flannel jammies or he's going to think we're a match made in heaven for sure.

beckyloo -- Now that's a perfect example of behavior that's totally normal for a 16 year old girl (or boy, even -- my boyfriend in HS wore flannel PJ pants to school and it was totally endearing) but for a 50 year old man at the gym? Not so much. Same goes for old dudes who use Lip Smackers.

Beckylooo said...

Yeah, being 16 gets you off the hook for a lot of shit. They still make Lip Smackers? What a world we live in.

Alex the Odd said...

...aaaand this is why I don't go to the gym. Well, that and I'm a lazy betch who only runs when chased but you get the picture.

I really want a pair of ice cream patterned PJs though. Is that wrong?

MEECH! said...

Lip Smackers make the old lady pussy taste better. Oh my god, sorry.

So, did you catch his license plate? Did it say PDOFILE ?

A Bowl Of Stupid said...

I'm not defending him, but hell, at least pajama guy was color coordinated (even with his CAR, for the love of Pete).

And then on the flip side, there's you - standing in front of a bright blue Ford Taurus sporting a 'skull and crossbones' vanity plate (I won't even go into the issues raised by calling that a 'vanity' plate), while talking to a steroidal member of the lollipop guild inked up from head to toe.

Shit, chances are that Mr. Pajamas has got a blog where he's describing the same visit, telling his readers that he too 'is not making this up."

I love ya, kiddo, ... but c'mon, it may be time to reevaluate your gym and transportation options.

Vermillion said...

So, TK finally got his supersuit then? Excellent. And now he has a matching TK-mobile, too!

litelysalted said...

Matt, you make a hilariously valid point, except:

1. Ew? It's a Focus, not a Taurus. Huge diff.

2. Now I'm embarrassed that I called it a vanity plate. But that's what I've always referred to as a license plate on your car that does not federally identify your vehicle. What are you supposed to call it, just a license plate?

And, vermillion: Aaaaaahahahahahaha!!!

TK said...

Vermillion - You mock my super suit, do you? And my TKmobile (at least it's not a friggin' Focus)?! Well, my friend, the next time you're being attacked by crazed vampire monkeys from space, you call someone else.

You're dead to me.