Many Important Questions Remained

Many Important Questions Remained

Arnold+meme+weightlifting+gloves.jpg

Recently I wobbled out of the YMCA after playing hoops with men far younger than me. After lapping up water from the fountain—like a dog, in Texas, in August—I noticed what could only be described as a man.

Relatively speaking, he was short in stature, with broad shoulders and a generally bulging but (I could only imagine) chiseled upper torso. Sitting there in the lobby, somewhat relaxed, he looked as if he might at any moment pick up a sofa and curl it with both arms. You just never know who might be watching. Not to mention, given this Y’s glass edifice and the nearby city park, there’s a considerable amount of humanity within viewing distance.

What I couldn't shake, however, despite shaking my head, what made me look a second time and then a third, as if to stare, were his hands. One of them was holding a smartphone. But both of them were encased by black weightlifting gloves.

If this guy were eating avocado toast, or knitting, or even pickling something right there beside the membership services desk, with a beanie barely clinging to his head, all the while wearing weightlifting gloves, I could've rather easily pegged him as a niche hipster, and mostly harmless. Surely all my questions would've dissolved.

But, alas, many important questions remained. It’s really too bad he was on that phone call.

Anyway, I am but a novice at the observation of weightlifting gloves—in any of their ordained, functional, or modern uses. In fact, I have already gone what feels like a lifetime, and then some, with nary a concern about such matters. Still, this particular sighting was a stand-out first for me: dude was making a phone call while wearing weightlifting gloves.

I pictured him picking up his Chinese take-out, shaking the outstretched hand of his personal banker, navigating the Whole Foods hot bar, playing Ultimate Frisbee with his friends, clutching the appropriate forms in line at the DMV, pushing around a cart at the grocery store, grabbing a ticket at the deli counter, running his hand through his hair at the red light, hugging his grandfather, passing out candy to kids on Halloween, clapping at his niece’s cello recital, and (why not?) asking a woman to marry him—all the while wearing weightlifting gloves.

Like I said, he could only be described as a man.


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