working out with mini trump

I headed to the gym. It was that or venture deeper into the newspaper, rank this morning with Trump’s loathsome assertions that Mexico will repay the U.S. for the wall he’s going to build. Every day it’s another obscenity, or another lie, some fourth-rate misdirection. It’s like realizing too late that the clown you hired for your kid’s birthday party months back and promptly forgot about, has not only shown up in the creepiest of costumes, but has also locked all the doors, eaten most of the cake, and revealed ominous plans to take over your world.  


There was also talk in the ‘paper of the flu and how many it’s killed this year. There were maps of it pouring thickly east, like a spill. And a two-page spread on the five shot dead at the airport in Florida yesterday. It’s been hard this year to concentrate on work, so wholly out of whack does the world seem, so full of ice-melt and well-off white men blathering dangerously.


And so to the treadmill it was, to the sharply inclined rubber slopes and the black stacks of immovable weight, and the TVs all tuned to HGTV, because apparently there’s nothing like footage of a home renovation project to get the blood flowing. 


Sadly, there was a man there again who refuses to wipe down any of the machines he uses (and he uses them all, if only briefly) . His answer, when I challenged him again, was, “Why would I, I don’t sweat?” He raised his eyebrows accusingly, and I couldn't help wanting to tie them together, those little twin squirrels. I’ve suggested before that he needs to change his ways before we all get sick, or that he should at least pick up a basic science primer. I told him today about the flu map, pleaded with him to understand that what the world needs right now is people looking out for each other’s well-being. But he just muscled past, in his unmuscled way. Seemed even to take pleasure in running his small and dry hands up and down the rubber grips before moving on to the next machine. It’s like having a Mini-Trump next to you on the elliptical, I realised - he's going to make you sick one of these upcoming days, and just isn't smart enough to give a shit.


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