By BRIGID PARKER
I hung my head low as I shifted forward in line at the Beloit College Mail Center. I was exhausted after a toiling overnight shift at the Loser Factory, after which I missed the Weenie Bus back to campus and spent a long hour at Pinhead Station waiting for the next one.
I was due for training down at Bozo Headquarters that same evening and could feel the dread already festering in my belly and creeping up towards my throat, when suddenly, everything inside me shifted as my gaze was called up to the beguiling glow of the flatscreen TV on the wall.
Its light shone down on me like a ray of sun through a break in the clouds and felt just as warm. In mere moments, the weight of every “moron!”, “weirdo!” and “bonehead!” ever thrust in my direction, every loogie ever hocked in my face, every bonk over the head with a large wooden club began to melt off my back as I read the words “ZUMBA: 6:30 PM, Knueppel Packard Group Fitness Studio.”
“Hey nimrod, you’re holding up the line,” came from behind me as I felt the unmistakable warmth of saliva land on my back. I stumbled buffoonishly to the counter.
“Whaddya need, freak?” hissed the clerk, and in a moment of orgasmic clarity, I realized that for the first time in my deeply woeful life, I knew exactly what I needed.
Without another word I bounded out of Pearsons towards the residential side, folks booing and shaking their fists in my direction as I went. In my room I swiftly changed into my nitwitted workout clothes and swallowed what was left of my pride before heading to the Powerhouse.
The woman awaiting me introduced herself as Heather, though I had briefly mistaken her for a fallen angel in cropped leggings and a YMCA tank. For the next 45 minutes, she led me through an exhilarating and inspirational workout. I was kept on my toes as we moved through high-energy cumbia moves into elegant salsas and everything in between. I finished the routine damp with hard-earned sweat and tears of gratitude. I thanked Heather, for she had given me more than she will ever know, and was met with a kind smile that let me know big changes were coming.
As I left the Powerhouse, I felt a sudden inclination to look upwards, something I hadn’t done in a long time. Above me, a double rainbow arched and two pink dolphins flew overhead, both pausing mid-air to wink at me. I wasn’t sure what to make of this, but didn’t have much time to think as I realized a crowd was beginning to form around me.
They grabbed at my clothes and huffed my sweat, fighting off others desperate to taste my natural musk. They demanded autographs, words of wisdom, sperm donations. I managed to fight my way out of the swarm and sprinted back to my dorm, civilians all falling to their knees like dominos as I passed, moaning my name in unison.
I was due back at the Mail Center the very next day (fan mail was piling up), and this time, my presence was met with a great burst of applause. As I walked to the counter, those within grabbing distance reached for me longingly, while everyone else tumbled to the floor, rushing to kiss the spots on which my feet had stepped.
“I could get used to this,” I thought to myself.
That was two years ago now, though it feels like an eternity. When I think back to my days of loserdom and blockheadedness, I feel a sense of amusement. I’m still not sure exactly what changed within me on that fateful evening, but I know that each time I am asked “Brigid, how did you get to be so sexy and desirable?” I know that I owe it all to Zumba with Heather, every Wednesday at 6:30pm in the Knueppel Packard Group Fitness Studio in the Powerhouse gym.
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