Bongo

I've decided that anyone who wants to write comedy should go to the gym at least three times a week. Not to workout necessarily, but because the gym is fucking ridiculous.

At my new job I have access to a free gym, so I've been going quite a bit. It's an amazing place. It makes me want to write an exercise book, one that has absolutely nothing to do with exercise. But for now, I'll just share with you a story about how I met my first ever "gym friend."

He calls himself Bongo. That's right, fucking Bongo. You want to know why? Because he hits it hard! (his words, not mine). Like you would hit a...yup, you got it. So I met Bongo a few days ago. We were doing sit-ups next to each other, just another one of the amazing occurrences you only find at a gym, when all of a sudden he introduced himself to me - while at the same time giving me advice on how to improve my sit-up technique...Yeah...I can barely take writing this.

Anyway, ever since we met, Bongo has been greeting me with high-fives. It's silly. They're real high-fives, too, not fake ones, which I've been known to give out from time to time - usually because I'm making fun of them. But Bongo gives really sincere ones. It's all spirit! It's great! And it makes me feel like I'm part of a new ridiculous club. But it's a good ridiculous. Seriously. Because you know what? All gym talk aside; it's a beautiful thing to make friends with a person you never thought you could be friends with.