The other night while at the gym, the most disgusting thing happened. It was worse than the time I had a foreign pubic hair stuck to my face during a Bikram class. It was worse than the time I accidentally ate a living baby snail. It was worse than the time I stood behind and smelled a guy’s gangrene as it sat pretty upon on open head wound.
Yeah, worse than that.
I was on the upright bike. I find I get a better workout on this particular bike. Next to my bike, stood two of those giant moving stairs. (I’m not sure how else to explain those. They are literally moving stairs. A person walks up them, constantly, and moves nowhere as fast I do on the bike.) The stairs stand about 7 feet tall. When someone is using them, their body is much higher than everyone else’s. Which is why I never use them. Well, that and the fact that they kick my ass.
So last night, I’m riding the bike when suddenly I feel something wet hit my arms. My first thought was it was in my imagination. Sometimes, nerves can play tricks on you. Immediately following this conclusion, however, I felt another drop and then another. Drops were hitting my arms and my hands. Was it raining in the NYSC?
No.
What was actually happening was the most hairy and determined man to my right, the one stomping up the stairs as if being chased, was actually sweating on me profusely. And I wasn’t even having sex with this man. His sweat should NOT be raining down on me. So, what do I do? I look up.
Duh.
As I look up in hopes of giving him the universal look for “Hey, dude, you’re like sweating on me and it’s really gross. Could you do something about that?” a few droplets landed on my face. One even hit my lip.
Ask me if I stuck to the upright bike. And ask me why I’m sick.
Mihow 
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