Back At The Gym: REID #248
When will the jig be up?
SHORT:
I’m back to waking up early and going to the gym, where scary men chew nicotine gum and grunt like they’re trying to pass a CrossFit baby through their teeth.
MEDIUM:
This return was, of course, prompted by seeing photos of myself at the Dyke March that I did not enjoy — facially, bodily, or spiritually — so now I’m hauling ass down the street every morning, praying that twenty minutes of hovering near the overhead press machine, too scared to ask if the ripped lady from my coffee shop is done using it (she lays on ground next to it in between sets but sometimes also just… forever afterwards), and then ultimately giving up and jump-roping in a corner, will somehow fix my entire life.
I also googled “how to make face look less old and wrinkly,” so TikTok is now showing me videos for serums Meghan Trainor allegedly used to “get her youth back” and “not look 40 like she used to1.” A Reddit thread says it’s a scam, but I don’t know, I think the fact they have two differently spelled websites is a good sign, actually. They don’t have time for spell check because they’re busy inventing more stuff that works!!!
LONG:
My gym doesn’t open until 8, so I’ve been “warming up” by walking laps around Greenwood Cemetery. This week I found a koi pond I’d never seen before, which felt like a good omen. That being said, the fish were slurping and jumping in a way that freaked me out. To take my mind off the jump/slurp, I thought about how Brad Pitt is in his sixties and promoting the F1 movie where he basically has sex with the concept of speed (a woman, of course), but is dressing like a twink TikTok witch because he’s hired Timothee Chalamet’s stylist.
It makes me want to show up on the red carpet, Western-standoff-style and be like “Well well well, look who wants to look homo now”. “All of a sudden it’s COOL for men in their 60’s to look vaguely LGBTQ!” We would then wrestle and it’d end with me getting pinned to the floor by his Maison Margiela mesh poncho-thing that costs $2,800 and has no seams, and yelling, “This isn’t over Mr. Pitty!”
I turned 29 this week and feel mostly fine about it (except I guess not if you read everything above). We did Going Down live at UCB the day after my birthday (smashing success, video coming soon), and my friend Rima brought Cinnabon to celebrate2, which was incredibly kind. We ate the rolls standing on a humid East Village sidewalk at 2am, using a table stolen from a nearby gyro place whose branding looks exactly like PornHub’s. There’s always a line, so I guess sex — subliminal or not — still sells.
I hope this year I keep figuring out who I am and what I want. I feel both closer to it and more lost than ever. And maybe that uncertainty comes from constantly asking people (via portal, stage, or social media) to see me.
I’ve found myself looking at people/things lately and being like, “Man… that jig has GOT to be up soon.” “When will the world decide that that jig is UP?” Not in a mean way. Just like— some people’s jigs have been running a long time. And everyone’s been going along with it. Less of a jig now and more like a successful Broadway show. Eight shows a week. No understudy. It’s gotta get tiring.
But you know what seems even harder than doing the same jig? Inventing a dam new one! I try every Monday night at 1am before this newsletter goes out!!! And then end up rearranging the same five thoughts into an existential tap number!!! So what am I even saying?
C U Next Tuesday
Thank you for subscribing to this newsletter. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s not [like when people slip on ice].
If this is your first time reading, pls check out the archives.
Sincerely,
Reid Pope
Bonus Zone:
Cant stop watching The Jock And Belle Show: https://www.youtube.com/@Thejockandbelleshow/videos
Just Googled and she’s 31, but the video said “looked 40 at 20”
Snack Of The Week
SOTW this is amazing news