The RWC. All the sweat, germs, and yelling you can handle, about as close as you’ll get to an orgy without catching something, and even that isn’t guaranteed. The school gym is where the motley and disfigured slime of UCF comes to transform themselves into the sexual fantasy of someone else’s desires. Men come to get big, women come to get small – and every now and then those roles swap. Like any gym, this one has its problems, and it’s our sole purpose to exploit these issues in a (hopefully) humorous and unsympathetic fashion for financial gain. So here are 5 things that are wrong with the RWC:
5.) The people (if you can call them that):
Some men look like a Greek statue with skin; others, like a real Greek with no hair, skinny arms, and a basketball-sized gut. Beautiful women flaunt their stuff and break a sweat to maintain a body that’d make Eros wear briefs. At the RWC you’ll find a taste of every character from around campus: chiseled men and women, fat guys lifting the machines because the weight isn’t enough, and your history teacher sweating so hard you fear he might crinkle into a raisin from loss of fluids.
4.) Not enough equipment:
We know, we know, this has been a complaint since the dawn of time. But it’s true. It wasn’t even that bad last year. Then all of a sudden, we come back from break and they’ve rearranged the entire gym, replaced half the benches with squat racks and deadlifts – like who even deadlifts, losers, that’s who – and just flat out taken away half the free-weight equipment for some twig-legged fool to lunge from wall to wall like it actually does anything. Sheesh, give us a break, add some equipment so people aren’t fighting over machines like a pack of hungry hyenas.
3.) The attendants:
They’re good people, nothing against them. Just one thing. The goddamn clips. We get it! A person suffocating under a barbell and the most an attendant will probably say is, “Hey, I hate to be a bother, but you’re gonna have to put some clips on that.” But instead of making fun of them, we should just feel sorry that they have to be the ones to enforce the absurd rules (even though they ensure the safety of everyone in there) that the administration has pulled out of their ass. Funny enough, that leads into the next point….
2.) The rules:
Fuck the rules, man! Down with the system! No chalk? What’s the problem with drawing a little side-walk art? You can’t do rows on the squat rack? Why?! Is the entire fabric of the universe going to come undone if someone uses the fucking bar on the fucking rack to do a different exercise than the one intended for it? No! Oh, and the rule about skimpy clothing. If some yokel wants to show up butt-naked with a single thread dangling over his shmoinker, he should goddamn be allowed to. He pays fees just like every other yokel in that place. Give us a break, will ya?
1.) The sweat:
This one’s on the people, not the employees. So, you just got done doing 18 sets of some made-up, useless exercise – not to mention you ignored the poor bastard asking if you’d be done anytime soon because of the EDM vibrating your brain through those preposterously large headphones – but whatever. You get up and leave, and you don’t even wipe down the seat? You couldn’t piss, poop, cum, and puke on that bench and have any more bodily fluid than when you just sweat out four years-worth of your body’s water reserves. Just remember, next time you leave that thing dripping with sweat, there will be Hell to pay – a courtesy message from the RWC Janitor’s Alliance.
So it’s sweaty, ill-equipped, and riddled by assholes and stupid rules. Are you going to stop going? Of course not; unless you’re just feeling lazy and “don’t feel like going today, but maybe tomorrow.” Bullshit. The RWC is probably the busiest place on campus from sun-up to sun-down. So if you don’t want to be part of the problem, fix it; or just complain until you graduate and find something else to complain about. Cheers.
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