Cursed Tongue Mysterious Creatures: In Search of the Treadmill Day Trader

I’ve been going to the little gym in my apartment complex about once a week for the last six months. Apparently that wasn't often enough, because it was only this morning that I came across a creature I thought was the stuff of myths and legends, like Bigfoot or the Easter Bunny. But there he was, as large as life and smelling distinctly of Axe body spray: the Treadmill Day Trader. MSNBC was on both gym TVs at an ear-pounding volume. And shortly after I settled into my own workout the man on the treadmill—he was wearing jeans and a crisp white shirt, whipped out his cell phone. He had the phone in one hand and free weights in the other. Over the whirr of the treadmill, the stair stepper and blaring of MSNBC I caught snippets of, “I’m thinking of selling my Ebay…is down…yes, the turkey was great...”

I was also lucky enough to hear of the whereabouts of said Treadmill Day Trader last night. Apparently, he paid $150 per ticket to see the Rolling Stones. By his account he was one of the youngest people there, being 30. If he was 30, he was also 6 feet tall. The 6 Foot Tall Man Who's Shorter Than Me (I'm 5'11") is another of life's mysterious creatures--however, much more commonplace than the Treadmill Day Trader. Of course, maybe day trading is like coal mining and wears on you. Well, this mysterious creature finished before me and offered me the remote. I declined and asked would he please turn them off. There was a moment of slight panic when the Treadmill Day Trader reared up and said, “Yes, so you can enjoy your peace and quiet.” I feared an attack, but the trader left after turning the TVs off and spreading the stink of resentment throughout the room. Or maybe that smell was me. I don’t generally wear anything as potent as Axe body spray while I workout.