He’s Got an Attitude Problem
So there’s this dude at my gym and he was always driving me goddamn insane. He was one of those bro types. you know the kind - all underarmor and backwards ballcap and “hey u almost done with that bench bruh”
And … I swear the universe did it just to be infuriating… he actually had a pretty sweet body. No matter how many inconsistent sets he did, no matter how bad his form, no worries on anything, this dude was fuckin jacked. So you can imagine how I felt, watching this guy stay pumped while I stayed this little stick figure of a geek.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. I got looks from girls on the subway all the time, and I’m not exactly an ugly kinda guy. But this brodude at my gym was swipe-right every time. And I’d been a dweeb in high school. I never really left that behind.
One day I got sick of his shit. He was all “Hey dude, can I work in?” I knew he was just gonna do his shitty arched back bicep curls and I was… I dunno, just done with it. “Just wait a fucking minute BRO,” I snapped back.
Needless to say, a few minutes later I was sitting in the managers office, trying not to lose my membership. They took ‘be a good sport’ pretty damn serious at that gym.
I turned out that the brodudes name was Ryan, and he slumped in the chair as the manager read me the riot act. He had this vacant grin on his face.
“Look,” I said. “I’m really sorry. I just snapped. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“You’re right, it won’t” said the manager. “We’re going to fix this right now.”
Ryan smirked. “I think he’s got an attitude problem.”
The manager shot him a glare. “I think you he does have an attitude problem Ryan. And I still need to figure out a way for you and Jay to get along”
“It’s uh… it’s Jason,” I said. I didn’t want to cause trouble right that moment, but c’mon man, get my name right.
“Okay. Can you tell me why you snapped at Ryan? What made you so mad?”
The manager snapped his fingers.
My mind went blank. But my mouth flew open. My words flew directly out, no editing.
“He reminds me of every no effort jock in my high school and college. Sure, some of them gave it their all, but too many of these fuckers just had it made with their perfect bodies and their perfect support systems. Rich parents. Coaches that’d pull every strings for them. Profs who have them passes just cause they could run fast. And they never fucking worked hard enough to justify any of it.”
“These guys coulda been GREAT if they ever put in the training. But instead they were washed up also rans, just cuz they got lucky in the genetic pool”
“I train every day. I push. I swear. I ache and I eat right and I fucking care, and I’m never gonna be half of what Ryan is, cuz he got the perfect goddamn genes. He’s just here showing off. Banging out sloppy reps and his biceps are still twice the size of mine.”
The manager nodded. “Stand up Jay,” he said.
“Stand up,” he said. *snap*
I found myself standing in front of the full length mirror hooked to the back of his door. Did I move?
Okay, I definitely didn’t take my clothes off. But I was there, in the buff.
“What do you think Ryan?” asked the manager.
Ryan’s mouth flew open, just like mine had. “ I think he’s full of shit,” Ryan said. “If he actually put in all the work, and I mean ALL the work, he wouldn’t be such a fucking whiner. Look at him, I bet Jason cheats on his diet all the time. Not enough calories to support his growth, and not nearly enough protein.”
It was painfully apparent why I was in the mirror. My modest body started to swell with heavy muscle. Heavy pecs. Thick arms. Big quads. Even my face looked different.
“And look at that body fat. I bet his sugar intake is way out of whack.”
My body tightened. Big muscle became big lean muscle. Everything got perkier. My pecs jutted out. My lats flared. My ass pushed. My core was tight.
“And he says he’s in here every day. But I see him miss days all the time. I bet he tells himself that it’s just a little cheat every time he grabs a pint. He’s gotta be dedicated if he wants the body.”
“He needs to stop blaming others and take real responsibility for success.”
This time my body didn’t change. But my mind sure did. Ryan was right, success was about work, and doing the work *mattered* to me.
“Anything else Ryan?” the manager asked.
“Yeah. He needs to pull the stick out of his ass. Like it’s okay not to drop a ‘bro’ on me like he’s saying dumbass. There’s more to life than thinking you’re so smart all the time, and Jay’d be cooler if he figured that out.”
The manager was the one smirking now.
And just like that my whole world changed. My ass felt empty, missing that proverbial stick I’d had shoved up there. And my thoughts…like they weren’t slow and they weren’t fuzzy, but they were…? Different? Maybe focussed?
I turned around and looked Ryan in the eye. I wasn’t self conscious about being totally naked in front of these guys. Whatever. Even with that rod standing straight out from my trimmed bush, pointing straight at Ryan.
“Hey bro,” I said. “Look, I’m sorry I was a dick earlier, k?”
“Anything you want to add, Jay?” the manager asked.
“Ryan could be great if he tried. But he never will because it was always too easy.”
The smirk was gone from Ryan’s face. He was shifting uneasily in his chair.
“So what do you think Ryan?” the manager asked. “Do you think Jay is the only one with the attitude problem?”
“Yeah, you don’t. But from here on that’s gonna change. You’re gonna think a lot about being your fucking best. Cuz you wanna please Coach Jay, right? You wanna make him happy?”
“Coach…?” Ryan stuttered?
“Where else could I work bro?” I asked. “It’s all about the body for me. All about pushing dudes to their best.”
I reached down to the chair I’d sat in earlier. A new set of clothes were waiting. Jockstrap. Then gym shorts. A tank top with the gym logo stretching across my big chest. And a ballcap that I settled backwards over my sweaty hair.
“You were his first client Ryan, remember?”
Ryan’s body started to swell too. Where he’d been an in-shape jockboy, now he was a fucking bodybuilder. Cut. Defined. Bronzed. His tank became a stringer just to fit those pecs.
Ryan had come to me after college. He wanted to stay in shape. But I pushed him farther than he’d ever gone before. And his rich parents paid every bill I sent, just happy to have him learning…
Just happy to have him learning some discipline finally. I kept him in the basement room of my house. The perfect houseboy, learning how to apply himself in every way.
He wasn’t even into dudes originally, but he’d learned. I needed to be fucked, and he provided a cock that loved taking orders.
Now he was topping all my clients. But only after his workout.
Ryan shifted in his chair. His massively muscled body barely fit. He was only wearing a tight pair of trunks. It’s the only thing he’ll work out in. Ryan likes to advertise.
“So do you guys have anything else to hash out?” asked the manager.
“Nah, we’re good,” I said speaking for both of us. “C’mon bruh, you’re not done yet today.” I opened the door and strode into my gym
“Yes sir,” Ryan said, eagerly following me back to his workout.
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