I Spent a Week Working Out With Gym Bros to See How Gay They Are
For those of you who have anything to provide to society whatsoever, you have spent time at the gym. And for those of you who have “thyroid issues” and can’t bring themselves to burn one (1) calorie, just play along. Let me paint a picture: you're having heart palpitations due to a carnitine overdose, doing your damndest to finish one last set of dumbbell presses before your lung comes out, and here they come, the Goon Squad. Clad in wife beaters three sizes too small and shorts cut so high up the thigh that it would make David Bowie blush, they step onto the gym floor chatting amongst themselves several octaves too loud, Axe body spray beginning to replace the oxygen in the room, creating a thick haze of factory-made scents. Now, none of this would be an issue if not for the fact that all five of them have decided to work at one machine. One. Machine. And it just so happens that you were planning on using that machine next.
Quick math lesson. If you’re as fucking YOLKED as I, it takes the average adult male fifteen seconds to complete ten reps of an exercise, give or take five seconds depending on the part of the body you’re working out. In addition, the average adult male takes a thirty second break between sets, give or take twenty seconds depending on whether or not the hoes are texting him. Therefore, doing the math, it would take the average adult male two minutes and fifteen seconds to get a full workout out of the machine they’re using before moving onto the next workout. However, this time is quintupled when there are five sweaty gym bros present, possibly more considering the amount of conversation that would be occurring. Therefore, you’re looking at at least ten minutes until you can use the machine.
I expected to hate these men and the time they take working out. However, I was instead titillated. The way they sweat, the way they laughed, the way they would clap each other on their moist, dripping backs, it all was aggressively homoerotic. I mean, there were dozens of beautiful women in yoga pants walking around, and these guys were focused on their homies and their deep, blue, seductive eyes. Now, as a certified straight man, I had to get to the bottom of this. Therefore, I came up with a plan: I would infiltrate the group, and I would find out just what made these men tick. The following are a series of journal entries from my time undercover with gym bros that may just be homosexual.
Day One - Infiltration:
As it turns out, these guys were pretty nice. It was their push day while I was on my pull day, but I knew this was my one and only chance to get in with them. It hurt like shit because I did push the day before, but it was a great success. I was strong enough to convince them I was in their league, and so they took me in. During bicep curls, one of the guys (his name is Chauncey and he smells like vanilla) held the underneath of my arms so that I didn’t hurt my wrists. I may be a certified straight guy, but even I knew this was a homosexual innuendo if there ever was one. The rest of the guys worked out as normal, though their muscles were bigger than all the other times I looked at them. If you ask me, this was a subconscious method of attraction. I’ll look into this further.
Day Two - Information:
I knew that if I wanted to get anything real out of this, I would have to get some questions answered. I started slowly, so as to not raise suspicion.
“Y’all ever had gay thoughts?” I asked.
They all went quiet for a few seconds, though Chauncey was the first to respond: a quiet yes. Clearly I had to be more direct if I wanted more direct answers. After a few more squats, I began probing the group again.
“Is my ass big enough? Like, would you fuck it?” I asked.
Again, they went quiet. Another one of the guys, Thadley, then pulled me aside and told me that, no matter what the other guys thought, he would support me. Success! Thadely clearly thinks I’m gay, and his words of support were little more than another innuendo that he wants to press his soft, plump lips onto my heterosexual ones.
Day Three - Escalation
Today was a day of discoveries. We swam today, so that required us to get naked in the locker room. I took a Viagra beforehand just to make sure I’d be as erect as them upon seeing a man’s throbbing member, but as it turns out, they all must have been on lithium, because everyone else was flaccid. However, Chauncey pulled me aside at the end of the workout and kissed me on the cheek. Is he hitting on me? We’re gonna grab some coffee tomorrow morning, hopefully that will bring me some solid answers.
Day Four - Instrumentation
Chauncey fucked me in the asshole last night, so I didn’t get the chance to ask him if Thadley was gay or not.
Day Five - Speculation
In reality, I’ll never be able to fully know whether or not this group of men are gay or not. And maybe it isn’t my place to know. I judged them beforehand and did a whole bunch of math I didn’t really understand to rationalize my anger against them. Am I homophobic? Maybe we’ll never know the answer to that, either. I’m meeting Chauncey for dinner tomorrow. Maybe he can help me figure that out.