Thoughs from a Co-op
your semester comes to a screeching halt, and you are studying furiously
for those final exams, which are inexplicably worth about a third
of your grade, you might need a minute or two to relax and experience
the mind-numbing journalism that I have to offer. The following
is a mix of random thoughts, experiences, or opinions that are easy
on the noodle.
I am a fairly
active person; I played football and tennis in high school. I only
was able to be on the tennis team because I knew the coach real
well, but that’s beside the point. The point is that I am
a fairly active person, emphasis on fairly. So at the beginning
of my freshmen year in college, I was struggling to keep myself
in shape, mostly because I don’t have anyone yelling at me
anymore, telling me how pathetic and weak I am. So I create a routine
where I’d run to the Student Activity Center, lift weights,
and then run back. That way I’d do both cardio and blah blah
blah. Aaaanyways, man this story sucks. I would run to the gym at
my own slow pace about every other day, except for one day. I drove
to the gym, started lifting weights, and then it began to downpour.
I thought, well I’m going to become Mr. Fatty McFatfat if
I don’t run some more. I take a peek into the treadmill room,
where the population is about 30, all incredibly hot females. I
think, ‘maybe this is a good thing’… I was wrong.
All of the treadmills and bikes are taken except one. I walk over
to it, looking totally suave and cool. I step onto the treadmill,
and start jamming the up arrow. I get going on it, and start going
at my own pace, which is just fast enough to necessitate the jogging
motion. I jog for about a minute or two, and then look around to
enjoy the view. Now, the interesting thing about these incredibly
hot females is that they are all in perfect shape, thus they are
running much faster than me on their treadmills. I’m usually
not a competitive person, but I’d rather die than be shown
up by a bunch of girls. While they were definitely running faster,
I did not take into account that their strides were probably half
as long as mine. So I get into competitive mode and start slamming
on the up arrow some more. I keep picking it up until I’m
going faster than any of those girls could ever dream of going.
Oh wait, then there’s the part where my feet start getting
heavy, and I’m slamming down on the machine with each stride,
causing very loud noise and creating large jerks on the machine;
jerks large enough to cause the emergency stop thingy to come out,
therefore causing the treadmill to stop, unluckily for me…
I didn’t. I ran almost straight through the panel that was
in front of me, causing the entire treadmill to tip over to about
a 30° angle, and then slam back to its original position. I
look around to see if anyone was looking, and of course they were.
I was hoping someone would be like “Oh yeah, that treadmill
does that, it’s not your fault.” Nope, apparently it
was MY fault. Everyone is facing in the same direction except me;
I’m looking back at everyone on my stopped treadmill. Of course
I let the awkward silence devour me whole for about 45 seconds before
picking my stuff up and leaving. I have not run since. The end.
Owens/Desperate Housewives Monday Night Football pregame skit was
NOT RACIST! I refuse to comment further.
Of all the times
to bite the inside of my cheek, I had to do it the day before Thanksgiving.
I bit that stupid cut in my mouth about a billion times, almost
canceling out the joy of gluttony.
I was at the
movies the other day and there were some kids about ten years old
in the hall, I felt frisky so I went up to them and said “Hey
kids, I bet you can’t do this” and then I jumped and
touched the top part of the door to the theatre. I bet they were
really sad about that.
Squarepants Movie was the best thing I’ve seen all year. It
reminds me of the days of yore when Ren and Stimpy were king and
queen of the world.
The more I think
about it, the more I regret co-oping in Birmingham. Not because
of the hours, I can handle that. Not because of the work, it’s
not that bad and some of the stuff is pretty fun. I regret it because
not only am I a mechanical engineer, but I have agreed to leave
Auburn every other semester for a couple of years. I have pretty
much signed a contract to die alone. By being an Engineer, I have
agreed not to have any females in any of my classes, and by co-oping
I am leaving the swarm of hot chicks that inhabit the plains. But
on the bright side, I never had a chance with one anyways.
Hope the studying
is going well, but remember, while you are studying and hating your
life, I am in Birmingham without a single concern about tomorrow.
Ryan can be contacted at email@example.com