Doing a slow burn

Memo to that guy on the next elliptical trainer:

Hi. I'm sure you're an incredibly fit, hardcore athlete. You must be. You have the super-expensive Nike Shox, the clothes, the iPod accessories. And wow, I must say that I was impressed by the sheer speed at which you were able to operate that elliptical. Those pedals were FLYING.

(I was particularly blown away by the way your incredible velocity caused you to fling sweat on everyone in a fifty-foot radius. That really sealed my opinion of your TREMENDOUS athletic ability.)

I also especially love how, as you stepped off your machine and wiped the sweat from your forehead in a manly fashion, you smiled condesendingly at the struggling guy next to you, and informed him that "It gets easier, bro."

How touching. The Star coming down to speak words of inspiration to a mere mortal. Maybe one day, he'll reach your level.

I would, however, have been slightly more impressed if the read-out on your machine hadn't been blinking "Current Resistence Level: 1" in large, easily read LEDs throughout your entire display of "fitness."

I'm proud to report that I did not scream "He's on Level 12, BITCH."

But I wanted too.

Because basically, despite the clothes, the iPod, the sweat, and the disgusting attitude?

You're still not a badass.