Things you hear…

So, the other day in the locker room at the gym this guy I know vaguely started going off about goddamn fucking communist Bernie Sanders, and goddamn fucking criminal Hillary Clinton, and goddamn fucking parasite bastard kids these days who want everything for free. Whattyagonnado, I said, studiously arranging my stuff in my locker.

Mostly I wear earbuds, and I don’t hear the lighthearted banter that goes on around the weight machines, but my wife doesn’t wear them, and she tells me that it’s a hot bed of Trump supporters. I just notice the enormous beefy guys with torn sweats and heavy work gloves, and another guy strutting around with a tee shirt with a picture of an AR-15 and something written in Arabic. I avoid all eye contact with them. Occasionally I exchange glances with some of the others in the over-60 crowd, though. We tend to keep a low profile.

And in the bathroom, I’m sitting there when some guy enters the stall next to me, sits down, and starts raving on and on in a really LOUD voice about the fucking establishment and how corrupt the system is and the injustice of it all. He’s really fond of the word “corrupt” and says it several times in a row. I think he’s a homeless person that sneaked in past the gym staff to use the toilet.

I sat there quietly until he was gone. Sometimes that’s what you have to do.

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