“Zumba”
Oct 04, 2019“All the way up. All the way back. Good, good. Reach. 3, 2, 1 . . . Good everyone!”
Thump thump thump goes the bass. The melody is just as obnoxious. The music switches every twenty seconds. Is this really how people like to start their day?
It’s 7 AM and the zoomba [sic] class next door to my shitty apartment has woken me up. Again. Every day. This is my alarm. This is how I get to start my day. You see, I’m not a morning person. And I’m not an exerciser. And I don’t like dance music. Everything about this is awful. It’s a terrible way to start my day. It’s the price I pay for being broke and not being able to live in a soundproofed high-rise. I’m trying to become a better person but this kind of perkiness first thing in the morning just keeps me from progressing.
“6, 5, 7, jump jump jump go go go, alright class!”
“Shut the fuck up,” I yell and pull a pillow over my head. They can’t hear me. Even if they could, they’d just ask me why I was such a Grumpy Gus. They’d tell me to smile and join their class. Before I could tell them to fuck off, they’d pull the covers off me and grab my hands and pull me out of bed and drag me next door to their thump factory. It wouldn’t matter that I was naked save my pink Me Undies. My morning wood is at attention, the only thing keeping me from pissing myself. “Don’t worry about it,” they say and laugh. “Just sweat it out. It’s good for you.” And they all twirl around in perfect sync while I stand there stiff as a board, shoulders slumped from being stuck in fetal position for the past six hours. I’m not awake enough to fight through the crowd that has encircled me, so I just start glaring at all of their beaming faces. One Top 40 song after another, but only choruses, only the meaty chunks that get their asses shaking. I try to walk away but someone grabs my arm and another one grabs my leg and they strike me into a pose. They contort me like a puppet. I feel my muscles and tendons stretching in ways they’re not meant to do so early in the day. It’s hot and sweaty and gross. Shaking their heads and bodies like wet dogs, it splatters all over me. I’m weak and annoyed and why did I let them drag me here? Who are these monsters?
I’ve had enough so I shake myself free from their grips. I swing my arms and legs wildly and there is shock and surprise on their faces for a brief moment. I push my way through the crowd and there is no resistance. I slam the door on my way out. “Bye, Grumpy Gus,” I hear them yell as I go back into my apartment, back into my bed, and pull the covers and pillow over my head.
The thump thump thump continues. “90 more seconds. Flex repeat flex, here we go guys!”