There’s a guy at my gym who blasts awful music at 5AM. I call him Shitty Shitty Bang Bang (on account of his shitty loud music, you see).
He not only plays hip hop, one of my least favorite genres, but he plays shitty second-rate hip hop at that. On blast. At 5 in the morning.
He makes me want to curb stomp his stereo.

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See, I’m not what you’d call a morning person. I’m clumsy and grumpy when I wake up before dawn and I like silence to give my brain time to catch up to my body. What I don’t like are some guy’s terrible beats yelling at me through the speakers of a cheap stereo, telling me all about the bitches and other things, while I try to lift heavy things.
For some reason, everyone else who wants to listen to their own music at the gym has figured out to bring headphones and quietly listen to whatever cheesy ABBA song inspires them to do deeper squats.

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But not Shitty Bang Bang over there. No, he thinks that he and his terribly telling choice of music are blessings to the rest of us poor souls getting our sweat on. He’s providing us with valuable grating sounds that we might not otherwise have had to listen to.
Behold, o sweaty miserable beings! Tis the great bringer of sound before us! O, gracious one, bestow upon us the gift of your volume that we may learn of pussy and bitches, those divine creations your angels sing of.
In truth, the only thing he’s doing is telling us that he’s completely unaware of the existence of other people. And that his mom did a shit job of teaching him manners. And that women who don’t wanna be called bitches should probably avoid him. And that he’s kind of a dick.
Curling those weights like you’re so in the zone,
You must think you’re here in the gym all alone,
Your music is blasting and blaring at me,
Bitches, and pussies, and N-words run free,
Out of the speakers and into my ears,
I’m grinding my teeth and fighting back tears,
Why is the world full of so much stupidity?!
I think as I glare, alone in lucidity.
Slowly I stumble towards all the noise,
The weights in my hands scaring the boys,
I stand over the speaker and let those weights drop,
I hear the case break and the circuits pop,
If this is how people get killed at the gym,
Then at least it’ll be quiet, away from him.
Tell me what bugs you. I might write about it.
-Tatiana