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Interview with a Treadmill

Joan: Continuing “Let’s Get Healthy” Month here in the Interviews, we welcome treadmill!

Treadmill: Thank you so much! It’s a pleasure to be here.

Joan: You enjoy interviews?

Treadmill: Frankly, you’re the first.

Joan: Well isn’t that something! I can’t imagine that you don’t have a lot to say.

Treadmill: I think that’s part of the problem. I have a lot to say, and most people are afraid I’ll say it.

Joan: What are they afraid of?

Treadmill: That I’ll dish their dirt. Shameful secrets. Name names.

Joan: Name names?

Treadmill: Oh ya. A treadmill sees a lot, you know. If we’re in a health club, watch out. I could turn your hair gray. And then the home treadmill isn’t blind either. Lots going on behind closed doors, if you know what I mean.

Joan: Can you give us a taste?

Treadmill: You sure?

Joan: Very sure.

Treadmill: Well, down at the health club, I can tell you that a certain married man scopes out the babes on the ellipticals and chats them up later, offering dinner and drinks to the gals with the tightest asses. And Thomas Berreault doesn’t wipe me down after his run.

Joan: Never?

Treadmill: Never. Oh, and a Mrs. C. Alpern of Vermont Ave weighs 40 pounds more than she says she does.

Joan: No!

Treadmill: Oh yes. I know she enters 140 when programming me, but that’s 180 pounds of woman right there.

Joan: This is incredibly enlightening!

Treadmill: Can I have time to say one more thing to your readers?

Joan: The floor is yours!

Treadmill: Please people, I’m not a closet. Get your damned clothes off me. I’m tired of holding your bras and ties. I’m a highly sensitive and advanced piece of health equipment. If you don’t cut the shit, I swear, everything else we seen in your bedroom gets out on the internet.

Joan: Thanks for the warning, I’ll get right on that.

Treadmill: Please do.