so, i'm running at the Y the other day and this crazy-ass bitch is there. every few minutes she would inadvertently blurt out a word or two. no lie. i don't think she realized how loud she was due to her ipod. but every few seconds she'd belt out.
"who?
who?
Ssss, Ssss...
contagious
outrageous"
and then she stops. for a few minutes anyway. when her face is so red i thought her head might explode, she fidgets with her ipod and the louder-than-she-thinks singing starts again.
"ffff-resh
rock
louder!
louder!"
no. there's no way. it can't be.
"shut 'em down!"
oh, it is.
"B-L-A-C-K-E-Y-E-D-P to the E, then the A to the S
shake it!
shake it!
turn it up
louder!!!"
she's singing Pump It. this crazy bitch is belting out the fergie part in Pump It. and doing so over and over and over again. everyone in the workout room is looking at her, partly because of her broadway-esque performance, partly because, at any moment, she may keel over and die. in between her lyrical genius she is hyperventilating, puffing down albuterol like it's crack, and cursing some unknown God of Running. she may have some weird-ass tactics, but they seem to be working for her. kudos to you, psycho treadmill princess, kudos to you.
(p.s. - yes, i was, in fact, the crazy bitch.)
amazing post!
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