Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Spin Noir

It was one of those April mornings in Maine, bright and cool as the business end of a set of brass knuckles. As I walked into the workout room I noticed that the room was filled with mostly dames. The only guy was Big Jim, who did his thing down in Connecticut and was up in Maine till the heat backed off back home. The dames were all over the place. As I scanned the room I could pick out a few that, lets say, I knew very well. There was Mary, who was worth a stare. She had legs that went from the floor to the ceiling. And then I spotted Heidie a fraulein who was a tall glass of something real good. Then there was Wendy, a cool dame ,who I asked one time, if she prayed, and she said, " I don’t pray. Kneeling bags my nylons." And then I saw her, it was her , it was Evil. I know her like a book. She’d sell her own mother for a piece of fudge. But she's smart with it. Smart enough to know when to sell and when to sit tight. She's got a great big dollar sign there where most women have a heart. The rest of the class was filled with, what I call floaters. Not much more than a suitcase full of nothing between them and the gutters. Yes it was quite a crew.

The session started out easy enough, then the Evil one kicked it up and I felt like I had caught the blackjack right behind my ear. A black pool opened up at my feet. I dived in. It had no bottom. I started to come out of it and you say to yourself, "How hot can it get?" Hotter then a hot tub in hell, I thought to myself. Getting back to the Evil one. The thing about her is that I’ll never think of our moments together without nausea. That's just how it is when you hook up with the Evil one. And then the stomach started to churn like I just finished a wildcat sandwich with a double helping of wasabi. When the ride was over I just walked around in a daze, like the time I had my teeth knocked out by a business associate with the fat end of a Mickey Mantel 36 inch Louisville Slugger. All could hear was the tune that kept repeating in my head like a skipping 78.

2 comments:

Mr Snootles said...

I bet Amy will be touched to hear that you think of your time with her with nausea.

As for me, when I think of Mad Dog and Bossy Boots I am reminded of the times I have felt my spirit soar when I'm working hard but it feels good and the music is carrying me along.

Then there are days like this morning where my legs are heavy and my heart is weak.

But it has been a few years since I have vomited after a spin class so I don't think of that anymore...

- Snoot (doesn't know any gangster-speak)

Evil Republican Spin Goddess said...

Hey Willie,

"A dollar sign where most women have a heart"- Ha, ha, ha... That probably explains why I left materialistic NY and moved up to the poorest county in the nation and bought an old "fixer upper" or as Carrie would call it - a "ghetto" house. Yes, you can see the dollar signs written all over me sporting my extra fancy & stylish Walmart clothes. You pegged me on that one UW :-)