If It Smells Like It...

I was at this spin class the other day and it smelled like ass.

At first it only smelled like stinky gymness, but then this dude saddled up on the bike next to me and it started to smell like ass. Of course the first thing I do is perform a little pit check, you know, look around to see if anyone is watching an then make as if you are looking behind you and take a quick sniff.

Nope, I smelled like roses. I knew it wasn’t my shorts, because I got them fresh off the hanger. Besides, I sniffed the chamois before I put them on. Smelled like a mountain breeze. So yeah, I smelled like a freak’n rosy mountain breeze. It wasn’t me.

Had to be the dude next to me. He smelled like peanut butter and mustard mixed together. With maybe a splash of vinegar and a pinch of brown sugar. Just nasty. Ugh.

So I am thinking maybe I should go Greg LeMond and fake a flat so I could change bikes. Damn it! No tires, but I could fake a mechanical. No, I decide it isn’t that bad – when the fans kick on it will be ok.

After the fans kicked on it didn’t get better.

Spin class is harder if you hold your breath. Good thing the lights were off – someone would have seen me with my cheeks puffed out and face turning blue. They probably would have thought I was being rude. I’m not rude, just sensitive to smelly people.

Then we come to the part of class where you have to stand up and pedal. OMG! WTF! I almost crashed the bike. The ass-like smell really was ass! It smelled downright saucy in there. No, I’m serious.

I actually clicked out of the pedals because I was going to leave, not just move. But then I thought that everyone would think I had filled my shorts and had to make a run for it. No, I didn’t want to be a victim of second hand stink.

When the sitting down part of class rolled around I realized that I had the front of my shirt pulled up over my nose and mouth. There was this chick looking at me giving me the stink eye – schmirk combo. I just shrugged, I mean, what do you do?

That was probably the longest 45 minutes of my life.

Oh my.