Why I'm in the Gym Bathroom Stall Eating a Creme-Filled Donut

Woman, 20s.

WOMAN: (TALKING TO DONUT.) You're probably wondering what I'm doing here, aren't you? I can feel your judgement. Or worse, your sympathy. You're thinking, "Oh, what's that poor girl doing?! Standing here, practically swallowing me whole when she should be out there sweating out the calories, burning the fat, building the endorphins! Sure, she may never look like those women in the cellulite cream commercials (you know, the ones who pretend to be shocked when their skinny jeans fit their size 2 asses) but she still has a chance to feel good about herself!" (SHOUTS AT DONUT.) Well, I won't take your judgment! And I won't let you look at me like that anymore! (BITES DONUT.) HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW, BAVARIAN CREME?!!! (REACTS LIKE SOMEONE HAS ENTERED THE BATHROOM, RECOVERS TO A WHISPER.)

I'll tell you why I'm here right now. You see, it all started with my mom. I had colic as a baby so she took me to these classes called Baby Fart Aerobics. (PAUSE.) You'd think they could have assigned another name to it. Something cheesy like "Lickin' Away the Colic" or "Bouncing out the Bubbles." But noooo, I'll carry the shame of Baby Fart Aerobics forever. Anyway, since the class worked so well for me and I made so many new friends (or at least that's what my mom tells me since I was only 3 months old), mom's been on me to join another social exercise class. So, today I took the plunge and I signed up for step aerobics. I thought, "Hey, how hard could this be? I just have to keep in time with the music and step."

WRONG. I knew that it was going to be bad as soon as I entered the classroom. All of the women in their tight spandex and triple-stacked steps. I tried to find a good spot so as to see the instructor when a blonde chic with legs up to here (GESTURES.) told me that I was "in her spot." So, I quickly moved just as class started, and of course I was in the back of the room. The music began pumping at an alarming speed and immediately the teacher started using terms I didn't understand. She was just like, (IMITATES.) "Now Round the World and Grapevine for two, and Alternating V Step with a Straddle Down!" Hell, I didn't know if I was turning right or stepping left or spinning around. I was trying so hard to keep up that I tripped over my step and landed on the CD player cord, which of course ripped it out of the wall. Everyone turned to stare at me. As I quickly rushed out of the room in a swirl of apologies, I realized something: STEP AEROBICS IS THE SORORITY OF AEROBICS. I mean, c'mon, think about it! You're either in or your out. Everyone who's in knows what they are doing and most of them come from a line of women who also did it. They don't like newcomers, especially if you're awkward and sweaty. Really, stepping has to be in your blood. And you know what I discovered, oh great Long John of mine, the only thing in my blood is sugar. And I plan to keep it that way. (STUFFS ENTIRE DONUT INTO MOUTH AND SIGHS WITH BLISS.)