When you're a seasoned partier, like most in our group, it can take a fairly brutal toll on your body. Couple that with a burning desire to look good naked and you have a pretty good idea of the motivations behind our workout regimen. We have a fairly consistent gang of four to five rageaholics that meet for an hour of Gym Smash roughly five days a week.
We're also a bunch of goofballs who enjoy a good time. That being said, and I can't recall who mentioned it originally, but about two weeks before Halloween the following conversation was had in the parking lot of Gold's Gym:
"Are we taking an off-day for Halloween?"
"Probably not. Why?"
"We should all dress in costumes and work out."
"That is a perfect idea."
As the date quickly approached, we just became more and more excited about the idea of fucking with a bunch of meatheads. Most gyms wreak of sweat and insecurities. Vegas seems to be even more so. Everyone takes themselves too seriously, they retreat into a world of solitude within the confines of their headphones, etc. I rarely see anyone crack a smile, despite the ridiculous faces everyone makes while putting up their final rep.
The morning of Halloween, however, we came to a startling realization - we had spent the last two weeks telling everyone we were gonna dress in costumes and go to the gym...but didn't have a single fucking costume. We panicked. Not the kind of panic where you fart and think you're gonna shit yourself though. More the kind of panic like, "the joke isn't funny if we don't actually DO IT."
After a few moments of "racking" our brains, we settled on some outfits. DJ and Nick were gonna be gay cowboys. I went with "Batman on vacation." It looked like this...
With our fires relit by the flame of hilarity, the three of us hopped in the truck and made our way to Gold's. We couldn't wait to see what the other guys had planned and revel in our own comedic brilliance.
Unfortunately, we received some disappointing texts on the drive. Nobody else was going to dress in costumes...or even go work out. We were all alone on this one. Not to be dissuaded, we cranked the music and continued on towards the gym. Funny is funny and no one was gonna bring down our mood. Their loss.
Approaching the parking lot, our nerves were a bit rattled. You see, we exercise late at night. There's usually never more than 2 or 3 other vehicles in the parking lot. We like knowing that we won't have to wait for any machines, benches, free-weights, etc. That was not the case this particular evening...
The place was fucking packed.
We parked along the periphery of the lot. There was a brief moment of tense silence before someone spoke up. "You guys wanna wait a few minutes and see if it clears out?" "Sure, sounds good."
The three of us sat in the parking lot for about 20 minutes, chatting. We breathed a pleasant sigh of relief every time a car would exit the complex. However, the burden of embarrassment returned in waves as new patrons entered. We quickly realized that this was happening. We would be working out with our asses protruding from what can hardly be described as shorts in front of a very busy gym.
With a resounding "fuck it," we were crossing the parking lot and making our way towards the door.
Crossing the threshold, we greeted the gentleman working the front counter and continued on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. None of us had to look around to know that every pair of eyes in the place were burning holes into our heads like ants under a magnifying glass. We could feel their disdain, almost tangibly.
As we prepared for our first set of the night, something extraordinary happened. All care, worry, stress, and embarrassment vanished like a fart in the wind. We...didn't...give...a fuck. It was Go Time.
Our workout that night was relatively brief compared to our normal routine - only about a half hour. Partway through this half hour we decided to ham it up. We did exercises based solely on how hilarious the pictures would look. Moves like Romanian Dead Lifts, Spider Pull-ups, etc. look pretty ridiculous to begin with. Try doing that in a costume that includes Daisy Dukes and you get this:
I can't recall a time where my friends and I got more scornful, disgusted looks from strangers since high school. It honestly only made us laugh more.
We finished up our final set and took a look around. In the half hour since we stepped foot into that gym, looking as we did...the gym cleared. I'll go ahead and say that again, in case it's not registering with you. We emptied out a fucking gym, based solely on our attire. It was perfect.
The only laughs we got were from the single employee working that night and the two gentlemen who entered just as we were heading out. That was more than we expected, so we thanked them. The lone employee was even nice enough to take this photo for us:
We celebrated in the parking lot with a round of high-fives and protein shakes. The night was a success. And we did the whole thing sober, no less.
Oh...so immediately afterwards we went to Rounders for beers.
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