Jerks of the Week - March 12, 2012

Jerks of the Week for March 12, 2012


JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 1: Shoe Bench Man

Happy anniversary to me! What, you don't know what anniversary this is? Hmph. Well, I think I'm going to withhold sex with you for a while. Unless you're a hot girl, of course. Or an average-looking girl. Or an unattractive girl when I'm drunk.

Fine, I won't withhold sex with any female reader - and I'll also tell you what sort of anniversary this is. It's been exactly one year since No Space Man, a pathetic man who was disinvited from his best friend's birthday party because there was no space for him, told me that he was on summer vacation in the wintertime. I can't believe you didn't remember.

Actually, I can't believe I remember. The only reason this popped into my head recently is because I recall being exhausted from the 2011 NFL Combine when I had that brief conversation with him. I haven't seen No Space Man in a long time. While that could be because I only go to my old gym once a week at the very most, it's certainly possible that he's been imprisoned for having sex with 10-year-old boys. Perhaps No Space Man was the one who prevented Joe Paterno from stopping that pedophile sex scandal. Yes, it's all clear now - No Space Man formed an alliance with Jerry Sandusky to lure in as many young boys as possible. Why didn't I realize this sooner? No one secures more young boys' cell phone numbers than No Space Man.

I miss No Space Man for the writing material, though I do suppose it's for the best that he's locked away. Fortunately, I bumped into another former Jerk of the Former Gym recently.

I had just finished swimming one Friday afternoon. I put my stuff on the bench and rinsed off in the shower - with my swim trunks on, of course. When I came back to the locker area, I saw Shoe Bench Man looking at my things in complete bewilderment.

If you're too lazy to click the link, Shoe Bench Man is a miserable Russian man who once scolded me for putting my shoes on the locker room bench. He said, "Shoe is dirty. I read in magazine - shoe is the dirtiest thing in the world." Unfortunately, I have yet to subscribe to Shoe Magazine, or wherever the hell he unearthed that "fact."

My shoes were on the bench again. Shoe Bench Man saw me and exclaimed, "Whopa! Whopa! Whopa!" My initial thoughts were, "Ah crap, he's going to yell at me about the shoes again." He had another complaint instead.

Shoe Bench Man: Vhy vhen I in locker room, somebody always take my place? Always!

Me: Take your place? What do you mean?

Shoe Bench Man: Iz my spot! Vhy you take my spot!? Vhy everybody always take my spot!?

Me: I'm sorry, I didn't see a sign with your name on this particular bench.

Shoe Bench Man: Every day everybody always try sit in my space!

Me: You know, you should probably set up cones on the bench so no one takes your space.

It was at that point that I realized that I may have sparked an entirely new conversation by mentioning the cone. For all I know, the aforementioned article in Shoe Magazine mentioned cones as the eighth-dirtiest thing in the world. Fortunately, that was not the case.

Shoe Bench Man: It iz constantly coincidences everybody try sit on my space. Constantly coincidences! Or iz constanty coincidences?

Me: I have no idea what you're trying to say.

Shoe Bench Man: How you say in English: Constantly coincidences or constanty coincidences?

Me: Constant coincidences?

Shoe Bench Man: Yes! Constanty coincidences!

Me: Why is it a constant coincidence though? Your "space" on the bench is right across from the locker room entrance. It's the first thing people see when they come into the locker room.

Shoe Bench Man: Whopa! Whopa! And vhy you always have shoe on bench! You always put shoe on bench! Shoe iz dirtiest cing in vorld!

I guess I should have seen that one coming. Perhaps I should have told him that it was a constanty coincidence that I always have my shoes on the bench.

JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Bear's Lover

I was changing a week earlier when the only other man in the locker room dialed a number on his phone and started having a conversation. It seemed pretty normal at first.

Man: Can't come over tonight.

Man: Too tired.

Man: No, I didn't swim.

Man: Just shot some pickup hoops.

Because this man is a member of my old gym, the conversation took a turn for the weird.

Man: I'm tired from getting up early and shooting hoops.

Man: Bear.

Man: Can I come over tomorrow night, Bear?

Man: Bear?

Man: Bear.

Man: Can I come over later this week, Bear?

Bear? I refuse to believe that this guy was talking to an actual bear or a person named Bear. Bear animals haven't learned to use telephones yet, while no one's parents are cruel enough to name their kid Bear.

So, what the hell was this conversation all about? Whom was this man talking to? I've come up with three possible answers:

1. He was talking to a Russian Bear. My former gym is mostly Russian people, and there are barely any women, so perhaps he's in a relationship with a big Russian Bear. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Let's try to imagine what this conversation sounded like with a Russian Bear on the other line.

Russian Bear: Please to come to house tonight.

Man: Can't come over tonight.

Russian Bear: Vhy? I make you borscht and vodka, then we make sex.

Man: Too tired.

Russian Bear: Vhy you tired? You svim? Guy who write Jerk of Veek in pool vis you?

Man: No, I didn't swim.

Russian Bear: Vhat you do in gym?

Man: Just shot some pickup hoops.

Russian Bear: How can be tired from shooting hoop? We make a sex, I understand you tired. Shooting hoop, how can be tired?

Man: I'm tired from getting up early and shooting hoops.

Russian Bear: I no believe. You try make a sex with guy who write Jerk of Veek.

Man: Bear.

Russian Bear: Maybe I make a sex with guy who write Jerk of Mons!

Man: Can I come over tomorrow night, Bear?

Russian Bear: ...

Man: Bear?

Russian Bear: I no can tomorrow, I have to wrestle vis crocodile.

Man: Bear.

Russian Bear: Iz true!

Man: Can I come over later this week, Bear?

Russian Bear: OK. Maybe ve can make a sex vis crocodile.

Poor Russian Bear - always so neglected. I do think this is a reasonable explanation for this phone conversation though. Here's another:

2. He was talking to Man Bear Pig.

Yes, Man Bear Pig - the entity which threatens our planet. If you're unaware of Man Bear Pig, it's a creature that's half-man, half-bear and half-pig. Here's a YouTube video of Al Gore discussing Man Bear Pig.

There is one flaw in this explanation, however - it would mean that Al Gore hasn't already saved us from Man Bear Pig. Al Gore is super awesome, so he's definitely made sure that we are all safe. Unless, of course, Bear's Lover used dark magic to bring Man Bear Pig back to life. Dun dun dunnnnn!!!

3. Bear's Lover is actually insane.

Unless Bear's Lover likes to "make a sex" with a Russian Bear, he's definitely insane. As I explained earlier, no parent names their kid Bear, and bear animals aren't capable of using cell phones at this time. I hope they don't learn anytime soon though. Not to be racist or anything, but bear telemarketers would be so much more annoying than human telemarketers.

The only non-Russian Bear explanation for this is that Bear's Lover is actually insane. If so, what did the conversation sound like on both sides? Glad you asked...

Pizza Hut Employee: Hi, this is Pizza Hut! Pickup or delivery?

Man: Can't come over tonight.

Pizza Hut Employee: So, pickup then.

Man: Too tired.

Pizza Hut Employee: Wait, so no pickup and no delivery? What exactly do you want? Wait, you're not some foreigner who swam across the Gulf of Mexico, are you? There are two options, foreigner! Pickup or delivery?

Man: No, I didn't swim.

Pizza Hut Employee: Fine, then you snuck across the border somehow. I don't care. Pickup or delivery!?

Man: Just shot some pickup hoops.

Pizza Hut Employee: Pickup? Fine. What would you like to order?

Man: I'm tired from getting up early and shooting hoops.

Pizza Hut Employee: What? Are you sure you don't have the wrong number? I think you... wait... what the hell is this? A giant Russian man just walked into Pizza Hut, and he looks really angry!

Man: Bear.

Pizza Hut Employee: Yeah, it's a Russian Bear. And... ahhhh!!! He's choking me! He just said that he thinks that I am making a sex with you!

Man: Can I come over tomorrow night, Bear?

Pizza Hut Employee: Ahhhh!!! Can't breathe!!!

Man: Bear?

Russian Bear: I make destruction for Pizza Hut Employee. He die. He make a sex vis you, and he no can give me borscht and vodka. He say iz not on menu!

Man: Bear.

Russian Bear: Vhat? I no talk to you because you make a sex vis Pizza Hut Employee. I no see you tonight. I drink vis my comrade crocodile.

Man: Can I come over later this week, Bear?

Russian Bear: Only if crocodile say yes.

Crocodiles can't speak, so its inability to say yes will prevent Bear's Lover from coming over and making a sex with Russian Bear. That makes me depressed. If these two star-crossed lovers can't find happiness, who can?

JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Tanning Tax Man

Believe it or not, some Russians at my gym know about the NFL. Well, at least one does. I overheard this enormously obese, cross-eyed man discussing an upcoming Jets-Broncos game back in mid-November.

Cross-Eyed Man: Broncos vill cover spread. Tebow, I dunno if he'z good qvuartorback, but Mark Sanchez iz disgusting qvuartorback!

Sure enough, Denver beat New York on that crazy Thursday night game. My NFL Picks sucked this year, so maybe I should have hired him. Why didn't I, you ask? Well, I didn't see him again until recently.

I overheard Cross-Eyed Man yelling something as I exited the locker room showers - with swim trunks on, of course:

Cross-Eyed Man: You must rezpect pozishon!!!

Cross-Eyed Man looked really angry. He was talking to this husky guy in his late 50s I've seen around, whom I will dub Tanning Tax Man (you'll see why soon.) I caught part of their conversation:

Tanning Tax Man: He's racist!

Cross-Eyed Man: No, you racist!

Tanning Tax Man: You don't see him putting a tax on fried chicken and watermelon, do you?

Cross-Eyed Man: You must respect pozishon over preizident!

Tanning Tax Man: Why? He put a 10-percent tax on tanning salons. How am I supposed to afford that?

Cross-Eyed Man: Iz only 10-pretcent tax! You can afford!

Tanning Tax Man: Why doesn't Obama put a 10-percent tax on fried chicken and watermelon, then? Black people don't use tanning salons.

Cross-Eyed Man is right. Tanning Tax Man is racist. What do you mean black people don't use tanning salons? How do you think they got so dark to begin with, pal?

In case you couldn't tell, Cross-Eyed Man and Tanning Tax Man were discussing an apparent 10-percent tax hike on tanning salons that Obama apparently passed. I have no idea how much a trip to the cancer box costs, but I imagine it's something like $20. With a 10-percent increase, it would now be $22. Oh, the horror.

These two men finished up their conversation:

Cross-Eyed Man: You get cancer from tanning boose anyvay!

Tanning Tax Man: Not true! Not true! That's a common misconception. It's never been scientifically proven that tanning salons cause cancer!

Right, and sticking your nuts in a microwave every day won't make them the size of medicine balls.

Cross-Eyed Man: I know man who have cancer from tanning boose!

Tanning Tax Man: Well, no matter. It still doesn't mean that the tax is fair. Obama's a racist a**hole.

Cross-Eyed Man: I like Odama. But I say nasing bad about Boosh vhen he vas prezident! You must rezpect pozishon!

This conversation concluded unceremoniously when another Russian guy approached Cross-Eyed Man and asked him about some sort of diplomas they received when they emigrated from the USSR. Tanning Tax Man, meanwhile, shook his head in disgust.

Poor Tanning Tax Man. Literally poor. I hope the extra $2 per session doesn't put him out on the street. If so, he'll have to rummage in trash cans, and eat fried chicken bones and watermelon rinds. The good news is that he won't have to pay a tax on those until 2016.