My cherished amigo, it’s time to share a body aspect of mine about which I experience great discomfort. Usually people figure it out after 5 minutes of hanging around me while doing anything more athletic than sitting on the couch and watching cat videos. I sweat, almost immediately upon beginning exercise, to a level that would cause most people to seek medical help. I am like a one man Biblical grade deluge, sent to wipe out the non-believers. I will sweat entirely through my clothing in under 45 minutes to the point where no dry spots remain. In push-up position, sweat will bead and fall from my nose and brow to the floor at a 1-drop-per-second rate. I travel with towels if I know I am going to be doing anything aerobic.
In Jazzercise class, there are 6 floor-standing oscillating fans positioned around the room, usually left unplugged until someone enlists their service. This means that, in order for me to survive a class and not coat the entire room around me with sweat like a slobbering St Bernard shaking off, I need to claim of one of those fans and have it blasting directly on me on the whole time. So that I don’t seem like a “fan hog”, I have found this spot in the back portion of the room that has become my go-to spot.
Reasons why my spot is optimal:
- It’s in the back of the room. I’m 6’5” and I don’t want to block people’s view of the instructor on stage, so I stand in the back. I’m trying to be considerate.
- It has its own fan, which I completely commandeer.
- It’s away from the door, so when people walk in they won’t accidentally get blindsided by my flailing limbs
When there are 6 fans, and most of them are not ever plugged in and used by classmates, I feel like it is in my full right to set mine to “not oscillate” and point it directly at me. Last week, a woman came up to me in mid class, after I already looked like I had taken the ice bucket challenge, and asked if I could set the fan on oscillate. I took a full couple of seconds to consider what this meant for me, before I said “sure”. Then, in my haste, I accidentally turned the fan completely off rather than to what she wanted. I only noticed that the fan was off after the next song began and ended. I must have looked like a crazy person. “If I can’t have the fan to myself, then nobody gets the fan!” She likely thought that I was thinking “eff you, lady! I will burn this fan before I share it with you”, and won’t attempt asking to do that again lest I pick it up and throw it at her.
This is my plastic oscillating fan. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My fan, without me, is useless. Without my fan, I am waterlogged. I must aim my fan true.
Back off, lady.