I have weird dudes in my gym.

Like the guy who wears many many items of clothing. He stands astride the cross-trainer. The cross-trainer is a machine designed to emulate cross country skiing. Lots of forward and backward motions.

http://www.argos.co.uk/static/Product/zone/priceCutsZone/partNumber/3354595/C$PRICECUT/1.htm

So, when someone gets on the machine dressed like this:

… much comedy ensues. It was like a car crash. I sat, frozen on the edge of the calf-stretchy-thing, unable to draw my eyes away from it. His sleeves, twice the length of his arms, flapped pitifully like some flightless bird. His hips, his legs bound dangerously close together by the belt around his knees, swung rapidly to overcompensate.

All the time huffing and panting, struggling to maintain some dignity.

That he ended this charade, while sweaty and dizzy, with an Ali-G style hand salute to the mechanized beast he had conquered is a testament to his self-image. Good work man.