Awê ma se kinnes!
Check here. I kinda have to go to gym. Otherwise I’ll just die suddenly, while eating something that I bought at drive-thru. Gosh. Which means I will then die in a parked car, in my drivers’ seat. Alone. At like 20-to-2 in the afternoon. How totally sad and uneventful.
I sometimes wonder how I’m going to die. Like most people, I hope it will be quick and painless. And that my last outfit is fabulous. In case it gets widely reported and there are pictures and stuff. And that is why we need to pay attention to our late grannies and mommies who used to tell us to always leave home wearing a clean underpants “in case you get involved in an accident”. I spent a great deal of my childhood waiting to be involved in an accident. I spent a great deal of my youth wearing a skoon onnebroekie.
And not one car accident, come to think of it. All that Omo for nothing.
But ok the bigger point is: leave home looking lekke. You just never know. Could be your last day. Reminds me of one of my favourite motto’s: always dress as though you’re going to bump into your ex. Because you know, when you bump into that one, you want rivers of regret to be flowing. Jaaaaa, cry me a lotus river.
And on the topic of always looking like a snack: while you are alive and kicking, urgently tell your people what your wishes are when it comes to you and your coffin moment. I’ve made it clear to my nearest and dearest that I want to be cremated. And that I definitely don’t want aunties wailing in the church while looking at my very dead face in the open coffin, and then having the nerve to touch my cold forehead. No! I’m already dead! Please don’t double-dead me with those delta variant hands. We’ve all been through enough.
Cremate, kanalla. You can mos go to my instagram account if you want to have one last look at me. There lives the real me. In the right light, with the right filter, at the right angle.
Shoo I’ve digressed. Again. But so off I go to gym. Because once you pay for that personal trainer and (occasionally) sweat your moer off, you realize that in order to really get what you’re paying for, you need to gently step back from the gatsby’s and the samoosas and the daltjies. And that’s a good thing if you want to hold on to all ten fingers and all ten toes. Don’t get me started. My youthful Cape flats eyes have seen too much.
Back to Gym. It can be a very entertaining space. Let’s start with them Personal Trainers. I’ve had 4 in my lifetime. Cape Town and Joburg. All of them good-looking. This good-looking aspect is more important than you think. My sessions are usually at 8am and you need some kind of frivolous motivation to get you out of bed by 6. The entertaining part is listening to personal trainers speak to each other. It’s very seldom about global warming.
And then there are those other characters that you are bound to find at most gyms.
Delilah arrives at gym in full make up, wearing the tightest trendiest gym number, everrr. Her mission is clear. She’s there to turn on more than just the tap. Sloooooowwwwww intenssssse gradient on that step machine thingie. Ammal kyk! And she’s lurving it! Married.
The ex body builder. In his Gold’s Gym vest. He was famous when he won all those competitions in the early 90’s. He now has a coffee shop. He’s friendly. And we are all friendly back. First name basis. Because him and his chommies are also bouncers at that popular club. We mos don’t want to wait in the queue if we personally know dinges.
The gym staff who work the gym floor. We quizzically look at some of them and wonder why it appears as though they’ve never used the gym equipment themselves. One would think ne.
The unfriendly dewwwd. You’ve “known him” for years but the steroids won’t allow him to say hello. Be wary of his towel. If its’ dangling over a piece of equipment, it means he still has “one more set brewwwww”.
And then I leave gym at the end of my session. Feeling holier than thou. Looking down on my chommies who’ve not taken a trot in days. And looking forward to Sunday morning. When I will go to Bo-Kaap to get my favourite koesisters. Life is tricky. A person is only human.