In a letter written from the Birmingham Jail, Martin Luther King Jr. scribed, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." Today, I experienced the stinging blow of segregation. The justice that I once lived for, fought for, slept with; was stripped away from me like Anthony Weiner's dignity. Perhaps it was the hue of my skin, the girth of my thighs or the Buick that I drove that erected an invisible barricade between me and the rest of the population. I will never know why I was blocked out, but in a flash of spandex I was pushed aside by a film crew recording an exercise video at my gym.
Apparently this workout video was a "by invitation only" segment featuring awesome people having an awesome time drinking awesome shooters and then sitting around and soaking up each other's awesomeness. I was not up to their awesome-esque standard obviously and did not receive an invitation to participate in the sweaty soiree. Poor choice.
I proceeded to place myself in the background of every shot of said movie. Whether it was a graceless pair of cartwheels or the walk-by-body-scratch, I found every opportunity to make my mark on the silver screen. A floundering foot found its way into the ranks of the steamy society, accidentally tripping into an outlying female. Grunting became the name of the game as I clamoured on top of a near by treadmill to adjust the overhead fan. Next, the sultry songs of Neil Diamond began pouring from my pouted lips. When they motioned for me to be quiet, I held my hand up to my ear and mouthed the words, "I can't hear you, sorry buddy." The most glorious part of this engagement was that I did not have earphones in. Oh the price one pays when Lee Cannon is not invited to play.
I have a dream that one day I will be featured in the foreground of a low budget exercise video. Today, that dream was fulfilled. I took justice into my own hands and handed the crew my contact information, letting them know where they can send the invitation for our next perspiring production.