First time back at the gym after my trip to New York.
Just a few minutes after I arrived, some guy approached me and asked “if you need me to show you what all the different machines do”.
Before my trip, I was going to that gym five to six days a week. For six weeks.
I said no, I was psyching myself up to start the lifting regime I’d been preparing for. He said “don’t worry, start slow!” and gestured to the pile of 0.5-2.5kg weights. When I smiled weakly and picked up the 20kg ones, he got behind me to spot me without asking, and when my form wavered, he put his arms on my sides. Without asking. He said a quick “sorry!”, but then carried on doing it. I’m pretty sure one of his wrists touched my boob at some point, too.
Later, a woman who’s been powerlifting for like, years, came in and went over to move the equipment into place for her bench press. Some other dude came up to her to “help”, and I didn’t hear what he said, but I heard her say “no thank you”, then “it’s alright, I’ve done it a million times. It’s alright!”
I went up to him a minute later and asked him if he would have offered to help if a man had come in. He didn’t hear me properly at first, and seemed to think I was telling him to go over and help her. I beckoned him back and repeated the question.
“Of course! I would help anyone who was new,” he said. “She’s not new. She’s been coming here for months,” I replied. “Well, I haven’t seen her.” “Well, she has been coming here for months. “Hm. I’ve never seen her.”
Next time I come to the gym and it’s full of men, I’m going to keep my headphones in.
