Although I have friends who like to run, bike, and play tennis outdoors all year round, I would rather walk on the treadmill or use the elliptical at the gym and look at the same four walls everyday than subject myself to the temperamental hissy fits of Mother Nature. Not that I’m high maintenance or anything, but I have a temperature comfort range of about 2 degrees. If the temperature varies slightly above or below about 72 Fahrenheit, I run screaming for the nearest hermetically sealed mall. Since I live in the Northeast and we do have a variety of weather conditions, you can understand how this would leave me with few days to participate in outdoor activities. Such is the life of a weather weenie.
But one morning as I was starting my workout at the gym, I looked out the window and noticed that it was gorgeous out. Absolutely, positively perfect.
Knowing that this kind of day comes along once is a weather weenie millennium, I decided to take the opportunity to get some fresh air. Abandoning my treadmill, I took a quick pit stop in the bathroom, donned my iPod headphones, and hit the street.
The sun was shining and the temperature was ideal. I was in a great mood… and apparently so was everyone else. As I trotted down the sidewalk, people passed me in their cars and honked and waved. I kept looking up to see if I recognized anyone, but they were all strangers to me. I decided that it was just one of those beautiful, everyone-feels-friendly kind of days.
I walked for two and a half miles, returning a smile and a wave to everyone who honked my way. A few people even shouted out their windows to me, but since I had my headphones on, I couldn’t hear them. I assumed they were just saying “hello” on this beautiful, friendly day, so I gave them a wave and continued on my way.
When I finally got back into the gym parking lot, I walked past the entrance to the gym and noticed my reflection in the double glass doors. Something caught my eye so I backed up to look at my reflection again. There, trailing in a delicate stream behind me was a long sheet of toilet paper stuck into the back of my gym shorts, wafting in the wind. I suddenly realized all those honkers and wavers weren’t being friendly; they were trying to tell me that I had a long, lovely, toilet paper tail.
Clearly, when I had made my pit stop in the gym bathroom, I had brought a little souvenir out with me. Mortified, I ripped the toilet paper out of my shorts and looked at it.
At least it was clean.
About the Writer
Tracy Beckerman writes the humor column and blog, LOST IN SUBURBIA®, which is syndicated to over 400 newspapers in 25 states and on 250 related websites. She is the author of the book “Rebel without a Minivan”, which is a compilation of her earlier columns when her kids were still young and cute and had no idea she was writing about them. Her next book, a “Momoir,” will be published by Perigee books, in early 2013. Tracy has appeared on The Today Show and The CBS Early Show, among others, and does stand-up comedy about how to be a cool mom in the suburbs. Yes, she knows that is an oxymoron.