Dear Sausages

I've been working out at the YMCA for a while now and as the seasons change so does the clientele.  The summer was the best b/c early in the morning (I'm talking like 9 am) there weren't many people there and those that were there were usually considerably older than me.  Well now the place is a damn sausage factory, and has prompted the following letter:

Dear Sausages,

I believe if you are going to work out in a co-ed environment there are several rules you should follow and things you should be aware of....

1.  I don't need your help. If I did I would ask (someone other than you).
2.  I can see your eyes in the mirror and I'm pretty sure they weren't looking at
     you. If I want your attention I will make sure I get it, but I don't so stop
     looking.
3.  Your clothes are horrid.  Here's some guidance for you:
     3.a.  No bandanas down over your eyes Guido.  You're going to trip and
             how cool will you look
             then?
     3.b.  Pull up your pants. This isn't a prison and I don't want to make you my
             bitch. Save that for the locker room.
     3.c. No sweatpants. Ever. Never.  Period.
4.  Get out of the way. I don't want to have to weave in and out of the sausage
     fest. 
5.  The towels are there for a reason. Wipe the sweat off of you. And while
     you're at it, put on deodorant.
6.  It's a gym. I know you are working out. I don't want to hear you grunt and
     moan. It's not sexy. And careful, a passing moose might think you are in
     heat.
7.  Put the weights back to a normal load.  I'm pretty sure you didn't really just
     chest press 200 pounds fatty. Stop moving the weight before you get off
     the machine. It makes you look more pathetic than your sweat
     pants do (review 3.c. again).
8.  Don't follow me.  Don't sit by me. Don't watch me.  I have no idea what I
     am doing, but I do know moving straight down the line of machines is not
     the most effective way to work out. So when you move right along behind
     me on the machines, I know what you are doing.
9.  Seriously, go away.  See that big shiny sparkly thing on my finger. It's a
     wedding ring. If I wanted to pick up a guy I wouldn't be married, it wouldn't
     be here, and it wouldn't be you. I wear the ring while working
     out for a reason, take the hint.
10. Quit talking so loud. I don't give a shit what you say you did last night or l
      last weekend.  You're lying anyway. You stayed home playing Sorry with
      your mommy--we both know the truth.
11. Back to the clothes thing, if your shirt has less material than my panties,
      get a new shirt.  I don't want to see your chest, or stomach. I don't show
      you mine. Don't show me yours.  And FYI, I know you think you look like a
      God and all...well I guess you do, Narcissus.  (psssttt...it's from Greek
      mythology, google it).
12. If your clothing doesn't cover the hair that covers your Hobbit body, do
      something about it.  Get bigger clothes, get a razor, or just get waxed
      tough guy.

Sincerely,

Jill