Physical fitness has always been one of my top priorities. I make sure I do at least 10 push-ups and sit-ups a month, and I go to my local 24 Hour Fitness once every five years. So nothing drives me crazier than when I see people taking shortcuts on their fitness journey by poisoning themselves with steroids.
Steroid side effects are real, and they are scary. Fluid retention, acne, and, of course, the increased irritability we know as roid rage. I had a front row seat to a bit of roid rage just last week in my gym’s parking lot. Picture this, if you will — it’s 6:50 p.m. and I’m starving after walking on the treadmill for 10 minutes. My favorite pizza place closes at 7, so I need to hustle. I hop in my car and queue up an episode of “Seinfeld” on my phone, because I drive better when I have something to watch. As I’m driving past the gym’s front door at a reasonable 30 miles per hour, which is more than half the speed limit of a nearby highway, I might add, some psycho comes strutting out the door drinking a protein shake, and before I knew it, my car had mowed them down.
I know you are probably concerned that their big muscles dented my car, but thankfully, there was no damage to my Saturn. Parts are hard to come by these days. I rolled down my window and asked them to please crawl out so I could make it to Spiro’s Pizza and Pasta before they closed, and this roided-up lunatic had the nerve to scream, “You broke my fucking leg, you asshole!” I really don’t approve of that sort of foul language and decided to remove myself from the situation by driving away, but this Jose Canseco wannabe just screamed even louder and seemingly refused to let go of the bottom of my car. Thanks god this parking lot is loaded with speed bumps because I was able to hit one with enough speed that it dislodged the juicehead.
I could still hear him screaming, “Stop that car! Stop that car!” as I drove away. But I wasn’t about to be deterred from my mission of getting a large pepperoni pie with an order of garlic knots just because some guy with artificially big biceps tells me I need to pull over. The local police did end up arresting me for something they call “Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter,” which is a ridiculous charge. But as far as I can tell, they refused to arrest the man I ran over despite his obvious abuse of steroids; it’s probably because all these pigs are using roids as well. I guess that’s the society we live in.
