Save Me Some Bordeaux

I learned a great line out on the golf course recently. To the incredibly slow foursome ahead of us, a guy in my group yelled out “Save us some brie!” Get it? The foursome was moving at such a snail’s pace it was like they were having a picnic out on the fairway.

At the gym, I come across similar folks who plop down on a piece of equipment like it’s a leather couch at a dinner party. Today, I watched a guy take up residence on an incline Hammer Smith machine for about three-quarters of an hour. (This is not an exaggeration – there is a clock directly above the machine.) I’m sure it was quite relaxing: the back rest allows you to recline at a slight angle, the handle bars provide a great place to prop up your arms. He also received several visitors during his morning of leisure, where they considered the current issues of the day. Other than when he first sat down, this guy did not perform one set on the machine.

As I walked past the confab on my way to the locker room (I had completed my entire workout) I muttered, “Save me some Bordeaux.”

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