Camo Hat

Working at my schools gym has blessed me with a lot of perks.  I know many of the employees that work there and can get away with stuff that regular patrons cannot.  I am surrounded by fitness, so I can always stay in shape and up to date on new workouts and whatnot. However there is one perk that many people are blind to. I am surrounded by idiots. I love my coworkers and I have come to know many of the patrons, that being said they are the minority. I could probably write a book on the stupidity and absurdity I have seen go on at the FAC. One such individual, we will call him "Camo Hat," continues to throw me for a loop everyday.

Before I tell the tale of how he came to be, I should tell you a little bit why his story needs to be heard. Everyday without fail he manages to ruin the workout of anyone in his vicinity. He enters the free-weight section with a vengeance--what have these weights done to him?! He throws his gym bag around like a god damn rag doll. But this is minuscule compared to what he does to the weights. Regardless if he is lifting 50 lbs. or 200 lbs., he tosses them to the ground with pure aggression, making a resounding BOOM CRASH that disrupts everyone around him. It is all for attention, that is it. That sort of action is unnecessary; I have seen people lift two times as much as he can and they somehow manage to do so quietly....shocker. Anyway, enough of this rant, onto the birth story.

It had always confused me why Camo Hat felt the need to take so much unwarranted aggression out on the free-weights. Why was he so dedicated to being an obnoxious lifter? Well it all stems from his 16th birthday.  Camo Hat grew up in a very italian neighborhood in New York City. A family of butchers, Camo Hat was the oldest sibling of six in the Fetogianna family. He was an apprentice butcher at his father's shop; it had been in the family for three generations and Camo Hat was next in the Fetogianna to own and run the shop. Everyday he awoke early to open the store and left late to clean it up.

His sixteenth birthday went great. His father threw a small get together, a BBQ if you will, but an italian one. As the family was cleaning up the mess, Camo Hat's father, Giorgio, pulled him into the back. As they wandered the maze of frozen meat, a silhouette appeared in the distance.
"Happy birthday," the words were masked by the sound of refrigerators.
"Well if it isn't Armani Fortoganni. Can I ask what in the hell you are doing in my shop," questioned Giorgoio.

Armani Fortoganni owned a rival butcher shop down the street. His shop had been overshadowed by the Fetogianna since its founding. Their meat was dry, stale, and lacked flavor. Yet, Armani always seemed to blame the Giorgio for his failing business.

"You know god damn well why I am here...I have come to take what is mine!" Bellowed Armani as he sprinted towards Camo Hat and his father....