South Florida

As soon as I entered the gym, the stench hit me. It was a pungent odor, and I struggled for air as I made my way over to the weights. Was it the smell of blood and sweat that stopped me in my tracks? No, I believe it was Hugo Boss, Old Spice, and J Lo's latest concoctions of deer musk and beaver castoreum.

I was confused but only for a minute. Then I remembered I was back in South Florida. I was the oddball for not being drenched in some form of cologne. What was I thinking, this is the gym. I should have prepped an hour in advance.

There was one particular specimen of douchbaggery that caught my attention. He was wearing a ton of cologne (of course). Also, he had on a pre-faded tight sleeveless shirt. His hair was cut in a high fade and needlessly gelled for its length. The ice in his ears was blinding as it flashed in the gym's bright halogen lights. Of course, the final touch of his workout outfit was a thick gold chain shining on his salon tan skin. He walked from machine to machine with his back arched and chest absurdly pushed out. I do not know if this was due to pride or the intense ass ramming his boyfriend gave him the night before. I can only speculate.