So DONK is doing a set of seated reverse Tricep extensions with an EZ curl bar (which he hates using, but all the whopping 3 straight bars in the gym were being used by a pair of disco bodybuilders doing some convoluted bench presss drop set routine). Anyway Donk was having a helluva time pushing out his regular number of reps with this flimsy bar and it didn't help that with every rep he would pump out, out a rather loud, gaseous murmur would eject from his "other end".
Long story short we were damn near famished when we arrived to the gym but figured we would scoff down a nice big protein bar or 3 that we'd get from behind the counter. Well, get this. All they had we're BALANCE BARS and a few other "energy bars". I try to be a polite gent when these absurd type of situations arise, and so I asked "twiggly" behind the counter, "excuse me gent, where are your MetRx 100 Big Collosal Protein bars, I'll have 3 and my partner here will have 4." Nothing doing, and no idea what I was talking about.
"OH YOU GOTTA BE F'ING KIDDING ME LITTLE MAN...NO COLLASAL'S REALLY?" Donk reacts as a series of grunts/groans follow.
Well Twiggly behind the desk informs us there is a "food truck" arriving outside in a few minutes. So again the long to short of it is we ended scarfing down a couple burritos for me and Donk had 3 plus a taco.
Now people's, let me tell you, dispelling gas, aka "FARTING", AIN'T A BIG DEAL AND IS TO BE EXPECTED AND ACCEPTED at any gym that's worth it's weight in salt. In our old gym guys would fart all the time and you just get used to it. Matter of fact it was a element of MOTIVATION. If the room was smelling foul then you knew everyone was training their ass off so hard that their bodies were forcing out some gaseous howls. This made you pick up your own pace and work to move some personal best poundages.
Hell, it wasn't uncommon for guys to drop some deuces right in their pants from hard training. Not kidding, literally shat their pants. Normal. That's why you may have heard about guys wearing adult diapers when they squatted in the not too distant old days.
Anyway all this damn gas that Donk was expelling wouldn't be a big deal if it wasn't mixing in with the "perfume" that these disco bodybuilders next to us were wearing. Some sort of cologne body spray I imagine, and they were DOUSED in it. This combination of fart and boy perfume was nasty and made me take a break to go and hit the latrine as it was causing a forced early burrito remnant expulsion.
This meant leaving Donk alone, and this is more often than not, a mistake.
As I'm on the can dropping deuce after deuce, I could hear Donk start up. When I left him he had the EZ curl bar loaded to the max with all the plates it could handle and he was still doing an easy 12 reps. I should've known better as now I could hear him trying to put more weight on the bar, then doing reps and I'm hearing the plates falling off of the bar.
Donk's getting PISSED as it sounds like he's stopping mid set to put all the weight back on and continue the set, yet it keeps falling off, and he keeps getting more pissed.
He's cursing at the shitty equipment, saying how weights NEVER fell off bars 20 years ago and I have a feeling I know what's coming next. Once he get's on a rant there comes a breaking point where he will suddenly start going into his past pro wrestling career.
"I WAS DOINK THE GODDAMN CLOWN MOTHERFUCKERS", jesus here it goes I thought, and here I was incapacitated as I had a log halfway in, halfway out, hesitating at the last minute it seems not wanting to take the black water plunge.
Donk was a former wrestling "jobber", the guys who were good enough to get into pro wrestling but the one's they would make lose all the time. The story goes that he got a big break when he was asked to perform as Doink the Clown, a wrestling personna that became rather famous and ended up being played by different wrestlers in the clown makeup and costume. Donk won the match and then another, but then was inexplicably removed from the Doink roster, hence his nicknamed formed, Donk, ("I was the TRUE Doink the Clown and when they took that from me they took the true me, they took the "I" away from me").
So he was yelling how he was the real Doink while screaming at the disco bodybuilders for hogging the straight bars doing some dumb ass drop set which included bench press, straight bar wrist curls, and seated calf raises with the bar on their knees (unbelievable to see really and much deserving of Donk's smack talk), all the while weight plates are falling off this pathetically made EZ curl bar that Donk is using and that area of the gym is being bean burrito bombed with the nastiest stanking farts you could imagine, mixed in with body spray that the disco's pulled out of their neon gym bags and were spraying around the gym to try to counter fart stank.
We had just joined this stupid ass fitness place a few weeks ago and now we had little Twiggly behind the counter calling "corporate" asking what he should do.
I made it out of the latrine, having forced the stubborn log through finally, and was just in time for Twiggly to nervously approach myself and the now frothing at mouth Donk, "you..you...you guys gotta leave... aaaand you can't ever come back."
"Fuck you Twiggly!" Donk responded.
One of the disco bodybuilders actually laughed.. "ha..they called him Twiggly..good one.."
The stench started moving my bowels again so we didn't bother making more of a scene. I got us both out of there and into the station wagon. I thought I saw a Bally's a few miles away...