(I worry that there are too many things filed in that category, by the way.)
Yesterday I was at the YMCA getting in a little cardio on the ellipticals. These machines are all the way at the end of the room, up against a glass wall that overlooks the pool. Half the length of the glass wall is taken up by the ellipticals, and the other half of the glass wall has stacks of free weights against it. In walks a woman, probably in her mid-forties, with four plastic Target bags bulging with stuff. She walks over to the free weight stacks and wedges her bags in the seven inch space between the weights and the glass. She is dressed in a denim skirt, a fitted lavender tee-shirt, and bright green crocs. (As an aside, can I just say that I don't think I've ever hated a shoe with so much passion as I hate crocs. Except maybe Ugg boots.) Her hair is done in some kind of poofy do, held back from her face with fancy little clips. Honestly, she looks like she just came from lunch at the mall. She then proceeds to get a pair of weight lifting gloves (the kind with the fingers cut off) and a lifting belt out of one of her Target bags. She dons said attire over her mall outfit and begins lifting weights.
Sometimes, I wish I had mind reading abilities.