"Your child is gonna grow up to be a perv!"

I'm not going to say that I hate kids. That's not true. I think they're fun, but I don't want any myself. At least not right now.

I have noticed a rather rare occurence when I go work out at the YMCA. I've noticed that, my amorphous figure is tantalizing to children. Of all ages. What do I mean? Well, I mean that I always get gawked at by some small being. And I ain't talking about midgets!



I get to the gym early one day. There's a mother and her child, a little red head, in the gym. They're packing up all their shit getting ready to leave. I put my rubber ducky gym bag in a locker and start stripping. I am past the point of shyness and I get down to business.

I take off my shirt and I feel a pair of eyes on me. I'm getting nervous so I put a scowl on my face and turn around to see that kid staring at me. Not just any kind of staring, we're talking hard-up gawking. I turn away from him and continue changing. I'm facing a corner of lockers and this kid is inching closer to me, trying to get a glimpse of me. This is very annoying.

I turn around and look at the mother. All she's doing is throwing shit in a gym bag. At some point she tells her lil bastard to get away from there. As if my stomach and fat ass were a location rather than a part of me. I try to get back to changing but the kid is relentless. He's trying to get in front of me.

At this point, I'm about to pick him up and punt him across the locker room. I have my gym pants on and am about to put on my shirt. The mother tries pulling her child away and he says "But I wanna stare at this lady." Well, at least the fucker is honest.

She tells him it's rude and pulls him away. Finally, she asserts some parental authority. They walk away. I feel more comfortable now. I'm topless, and fiddling with my shirt when I hear that familiar music. You know the one. The Jaws theme. Only there was no shark, there was a ginger. Still staring at me.

Are you fucking kidding me? I say to myself. I turn around, and I glare at him. He continues staring at me. It's a show down, but I know I can win. I've done this with my cat a million times.



His mother returns and I feel the need to speak up. I mean, first it's me but then what if he starts staring at the fat, handicapped lady? I'm just trying to spare some feelings, that's all.

"Ya know, your child is gonna grow up to be a perv," was the first thing out of my mouth. The mouth stares at me, shocked.

"He's only a child," she responds.
"So was hitler," I mutter as I put on my shirt. The kid still stares. "I just find it incredibly rude that he's staring at me. Teach him some god damn manners!"

Still shocked at my aburpt outburst. They leave and I feel comfortable in the locker room once again, until some old wrinkly naked lady passes by.

But that's not the first odd encounter I've had with a youngling in the YMCA locker room. Not long ago, I walked in from a heavy workout (which means I succeeded in not falling off the treadmill again) and was going to put my stuff in my locker before hitting the sauna.

The locker room is full of children of all different breeds and ages. As I'm walking to my locker, something strikes me hard in the back. OUCH! I yell and turn around to face my assailant.

I look down and see a two foot tall kid smiling. He'd hit me with his fucking life preserver and thought it was hilarious. I look at the first adult I see, and assuming it's the mother I say, "That fucker just hit me!" And walk away.

She says, "He's not mine," to which I respond "Well who's is he?" And she says "I dunno," at which I respond, "Well WHAT AN ASSHOLE!" And walk away.

I mean seriously, I think some people are skipping out on teaching their kids some manners. This world is approaching an intellectual decline, and it's mostly evident in the locker room at the YMCA.

~Suge