Be! Be! Aggressive!

New Year's resolutions... I hate them.
I hate the top resolution most: to lose weight.

This time of the year is a pain in the ass to be at the gym... having to deal with so many clueless assholes who are too... I don't know what they are... shy (?) to ask for help with equipment or a class. They just stand there and hinder the rest who actually have a routine down. They don't even use COMMON SENSE (the class is called KICKBOXING. I'm 5'8". Unless you like the feel of a shoe up your ass, I suggest you get at least three feet away from me, retard).
I'm FINE with helping a newbie out... I actually like it, and I'm very nice and encouraging to them, because I know how intimidating the gym can be the first couple of visits.
I think I would be less resentful if at least half of those people who made the resolution to be gym-goers would actually stick with it. It would make the frustration worth it.
But no... most newbies are stubborn, hard-headed fuck ups... who also seem to be drawn to me like a magnet. I have to deal with the newbies fucking EVERYTHING up and really, really wearing my patience thin.

***

It's the gym... I don't know about most people, but I'm not the most pleasant person when weight-lifting or kickboxing is involved. I can't sit there and think about cute boys or what nail polish color I could be rocking because it's distracting, more than anything (I've done this in the past, and each time I find myself thinking "happy" thoughts, I get injured. I sprained the fuck out of my right wrist last March-- a sprain which has just barely healed, but gets aggravated if I do more than ten tricep pushups. My body doesn't dig/can't handle that angle-- unintentional rhyme there). I have to be aggressive. So... if you continuously shove into me, swat at me, or stand so close that you hinder my clean-and-press, I'm going to get PISSED.

This leads me to last night.
I was trying SO damn hard to keep my cool in kickboxing class. There were about... 80 people in class, I couldn't count, but I'm sure it was a fire hazard. A good 20 were new people. All the newbies were cool... except, of course, these two fucking idiots who decided to stand to my right. One was more idiotic than the other... and she was the one closest to me.
She was about five feet tall, clumsy as fuck, and maybe in her early 30s. By the way she was punching (wildly), it was obvious this midget has NEVER gotten into a physical fight... not even with her own shadow. Yet, she stood there and acted like a hardass (probably what irritated me most)... until she'd get tired and just stand there like a fucking pillar, totally killing my momentum.
She slowly but surely made her way to within a foot of me, directly in front of me. I'd have to kick to her sides, that's how bad it was. I'd purposely kick past her head, as hard as possible (if her fucking head got in the way of my foot... oopsies! Maybe you should stand a little further from the bull next time, dumbshit) and she still wouldn't move. AND THERE WAS ROOM IN FRONT OF HER (this just infuriated me).
Once the kicking portion of class was over (without any incident... although I secretly wanted to kick the shit out of one of her hands, just to send out a nice warning, you know?), it came time for the plyometric portion of class.
During the jump squats, she was almost on me. I'd blow at her ear and her hair would sway. I would stand there, and purposely blow into her ear. BITCH! I can blow INTO your ear canal... IS THAT NOT CLOSE ENOUGH?! GET THE FUCK OFF ME!
AND SHE STILL WOULDN'T MOVE (away from me. She'd actually scoot closer to me)!
If I could have, I would have moved, but see, THERE WAS NO ROOM. I was nearly against the wall. So, during one of the jumps, as I was swinging my hands upward (required motion here, not like I was doing it on purpose), I held my hand out and pressed it against her back... in my best attempt to send her a silent "Look, bitch, please, give me some room here. Get the fuck out of the way or I'll actually push my hand next time it makes contact with your stupid little back."
Cunt just looked back at me and DOGGED me.
OH HELL NAH, YOU FUCKING LITTLE BITCH!
She sealed her fate with that action-- you DON'T dog a chick who can shoot daggers with her eyes.

We took a ten second break, and then came the worst part (of class, and this violent back-and-forth):
the lateral ski lunges.
It's the speed-skater move:


This was where I got the universal OK to beat the shit out of this stupid little mole who was fucking with my patience for forty-minutes too long.
Her dogging me gave me incentive to pound these out.
I was beasting-- left, right, left right. I was jumping so far to my left then right, that I could look her in her eyes. Each time, I made sure to look her right in the face... so she could feel my stare on her at least peripherally. You. Are. Bugging. Me.
That's when she let me have it. She swung back (she was directly in front of me, back turned, obviously), trying to look enthralled by the exercise, and BAM! her right fist hit the right side of my face... then when she swung her left hand back, she scratched the shit out of my right hand.
I came to an abrupt stop and just stared at her.
AND SHE ACTED CRAZY! As if nothing had happened (this sent me over the edge. Just... how unapologetic she was about the whole thing. As if I was the one at fault).
I looked up at the trainer and he just told me to shake it off.
Shake it off?! NO ONE touches my face!
BUT! Since I'm nice (to a stupid degree), I got back into it. This time, I was STOMPING-- each time, fighting the urge to just swipe her feet and make her take a nasty fall to get trampled by the rest of class.
She scooted back closer to me, and I shoved my left forearm against her back, then my right forearm.
She looked back at me again, and dogged me again.
THEN she CAUGHT my right hand (mind you, her back was turned to me) and PINCHED it in her clasp like a motherfucking king crab or some shit (she was the fucking size of one. Short and round. Fucking sea-creature-looking cunt) and punched the left side of my face (with her back turned to me)!
ENOUGH! I can play this too!
I clenched my right fist and swung with all of my might just as she leaned to the right side.
BAM!
KIDNEY PUNCH, PERRAAAAA!

Trainer saw it... and walked over to us.
The dumb cunt was crouched over, I was standing still, and my three friends (regulars) stood there and had my back.
Badassfriend1: She moved INTO her fist.
Badassfriend2: The girl didn't see her.
Badassfriend3: All part of the class, girl.
Trainer: THAT'S IT GUYS! PUSH THE PERSON IN FRONT OF YOU! (turns off mic and speaks directly to the animal in front of me) Easy, girl.
HA-HAAAAA!
Stupid sea-creature cunt started walking away--limping-- with her friend. I made sure to dog her... then smirk, as she walked away.
She stared at me as if I had just stolen her husband.
I mouthed off "Fuck. You." in my best chola face... you know, that one where I hella bite down on my bottom lip to pronounce the "F."

I don't understand why it's always the short girls who feel the need to get aggressive with me. I always get the chicks with the mean-ass case of the Napoleon Complex to invade my space, then look for a fight. When they feel they want to flex their muscle, they always pick me as the girl on which they're going to test their strength. The quiet, shy girl minding her own business in the back corner of the room.
I may look like a pushover, and I may act like one... but just like the nicest rottwailer forced to deal with an obnoxious chihuahua, if the goddamned chihuahua bites my ears and tail for too long, I'm going to snap the bitch in half.

I SWEAR I'm a nice girl. Honest. (Just don't touch my fucking face)
Maybe that's what kept me out of jail... and still a member of the gym (I won't lie, once class was over, I jetted out of the place... even jogging to my car).

I can't wait for March to roll around ('cause February still has a couple of half-assed resolutioners hanging around and aggravating the situation).