despite it already being mid-february, if the busyness of our barre studio is any indication, apparently people are still pretty gung-ho on that whole sticking to their new year’s resolution to get in shape thing. because my evening classes have been like a packed sardine can, y’all.
and while i should be happy for them and support them in their journey to getting the lifted seat and toned thighs they’ve been dreaming of, i’m also a little like, “um, you don’t even go here, why are you standing in my spot?”
because i’m a mean girl. and on wednesdays i wear pink.
but in all seriousness, it has certainly been an adjustment for us “veterans” (i say that when i’ve only technically been coming to this studio since october) to file in amongst all of the newbies trying their hand at the ballet/pilates-esque workout. i’d like to think i’m super accommodating but when i see them in their bright pink socks (the indicator for the instructor that they are a studio barre virgin), i usually just roll my eyes and think, you won’t last a week. again, because i’m regina george.
this week in particular has turned out a lot of first-timers. our 5:30 p.m. class has been a sweaty sauna of spandex-clad bodies all vying for a chance at the barre. thank goodness for air conditioning. i’m not gonna lie, as my usual “spot” has now become prime real estate, i’ve noticed myself getting more and more aggressive against my fellow tucker. but before i start throwing elbows, i have to check myself.
hey, remember when YOU were a newbie? remember when it was your first time at this studio and you didn’t know the studio “norms” or who tucked where or what instructors were more ruthless than others? remember when you tried smiling at a so-called “veteran” and they looked at you with the same disdain that you’re now looking at the new year’s resolutions crowd? yep, what goes around comes around (according to justin timberlake) so you should probably get off of your high horse and go introduce yourself to the shy girl in the corner that looks like she wants to cry or throw-up or maybe both at the same time.
anyway, consider me humbled-slash-embarrassed. because apparently we don’t ever graduate from high school and the plastics aren’t just a made-up girl group from a tina fey/lindsay lohan movie. and while i do love her name and the fact that her dad is the inventor of the pastry strudel, i’d rather be glen coco than gretchen wieners any day.
“hey newbie in the pink socks, you can tuck with us. i’ll show you where to get your 3 lb. weights and blue band.”