This morning

when I went to the gym there were two lanky young men already on the two good treadmills. Evidently they had arrived only minutes before me, as they were speeding up to a slow walk, but for one of the boys it turned out he intended to walk in this sloth like pace for the entire workout, as if he was just there because his boyfriend dragged him along.

Though I say nothing, I always get irrationally enraged inside, which is actually not a bad frame of mind for running in place, when someone hogs the non shitty treadmill only to mosey along. Can’t he see I have calories to burn? This time I let it slide because the boys brought the music. The one dragging his feet had Britney and Beyonce emanating from his iPhone on full blast. I kind of assumed these two excersizing boys were a couple cutely starting their day together with a cardio/jam session, which made me wish Eugenio and I could work out together more often if only our schedules matched, but when they left I got a closer look at their faces and stopped for a moment to wonder how I knew them or where I’d seen them before. Then I realised— they are the new Mormons inhabiting the apartment upstairs, the Mormon apartment! Every few months a new pair of fresh faced Mormons come to replace the previous proselytizing teenagers who, after a short yet trying lifetime of force-fed beliefs, are enlightened with the truth (lucky them to have figured the world out so soon!) and eager to share their knowledge with the unassuming passersby whom they hit with their wobbly bicycles on their naive trek through the heathen filled Orlando streets.

These two dance mix loving boys had me fooled for a second in the gym. But I kind of suspect they may have the LDS church sponsoring their stay fooled as well. It was probably planned: Let’s just go on a “mission” and meet up in Florida.


Maybe I’m stereotyping all over the place, but they listened to Beyonce’s Run the World (Girls) on full blast twice in 30 minutes — twice! — and filled the rest of the half hour with remixed Britney. Whatever, I’m stupid; they’re probably just two mormon feminists who love cardio jams. I respect that. Or just Mormons who love songs with lively beats to fuel their treadmill romps. I don’t know. People are interesting.