Escaping the Giant Butt

October 23, 2008

In the throes of cardio exercise, the senses heighten. I guess it’s the endorphin rush. How else to explain the gym scene around me: twenty-five people on various pieces of fitness equipment suddenly appearing to move in choreographed rhythm to the Fleet Foxes blaring in my ear buds.

The scene jars me from whatever world I’m lost in. After a few minutes, synchronicity vanishes and the random universe returns.

I turn to the TV screen just above my head, and randomness is the only explanation for what I see: grotesquely large, faux human buttocks, sans torso and legs, easing onto a toilet seat. Can an endorphin rush morph into a bad acid trip?

From the closed-caption, I conclude that two engineers are trying to prove whether an obese airline passenger had indeed become stuck to the pressurized toilet when she flushed it. Impossible, they decide, but not before grabbing and poking the buttocks in suggestive ways. What is this show and why am I watching it?

I look away and pick up the pace. At the other end of the room in a window, I see my vague reflection striding toward me but getting nowhere. I need another fix.