Bringing It Up Again

As those who know me in three dimensions are well aware, I do not like to repeat myself. I do not like to have to do something over once it’s already been done once. The latter, of course, is somewhat difficult given my adorable penchant for mild obsessive-compulsiveness (or “OCD” for those of you who adore abbreviations … probably those of you with ADD or TMJ or XYZPDQ) which manifests itself in my checking the alarm clock at least four times each night, in rapid succession, in order to convince myself that I did, indeed, set it, yes I did I did I did yes I did.
So … where was I?
Oh yes.
I don’t like repeating myself. However, sometimes it is necessary, because, unfortunately, the typical schlub on the street cannot quite grasp the most basic of concerns; to wit, “Do not order anything from the ‘American’ section of a Chinese menu”, “The picture on the recipe card is only a serving suggestion”, and “It’s supposed to hurt, now be quiet and turn around”, among others too numerous to list.
When the basic dullard is in a gym setting, you should know the potential for staggering idiocy is even greater. Or you think you’d know. Or that I’d know. After all, my encounters with gymorons are legend. (I would link to the specific entries, but that takes the fun out of it for you!) So why oh why was I stunned today at the gym, when, upon entering one of the one-room restrooms immediately after it was vacated by an overheated rabid “cardio” enthusiast, I was almost knocked backward, as if by the force of a grenade explosion, by the almost corporeal stench of freshly born vomit? And why was I further shocked to see the tell-tale orangish residue adhering to the inside of the toilet bowl at water’s edge, along with a lone medium-sized shrimp ($8.99 a pound type)?
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: STOP THROWING UP AT THE GYM. STOP IT. STOP IT. STOP IT.
Stop bringing it back up. So I can stop bringing it up.
P.S.  Of course I did not use that restroom after the sweat-drenched vomitress vacated it. And of course I glared at her and her flushed florid face as I passed her en route to a restroom on another floor.