Page 75 of Behind the Bars

“Oh?” Ireplied.

He placed the paperwork down. As he looked up, he shrugged. “That’s all you’re going to say? Oh? Don’t you want to know why you’refired?”

“Will it change your de-decision?”

“No.”

“Then, no.” I started to leave, but he kepttalking.

“You made three clients cry yesterday,” he toldme.

“They were acting weak.” They’d all had three more sets of chest presses in them, and they’d failed to complete the task. “I thought my job was to push ourclients.”

“Exactly—push,” he agreed. “Not destroy. I mean, listen, you’re the best personal trainer we have when it comes to the actual fitness aspect. You’re well-versed in the equipment and how to demonstrate the correct way to use it. You have a solid education in fitness and wellness, and you know technique inside and out for how to transform a body. Hell, you did it to your own body. Physically, you’re a Greek god. Your muscles have muscles and your body is fucking insane, but emotionally…? You don’t give the right emotional support for people on their healthjourneys.”

I stared blankly. “You’re firing me because three people criedyesterday?”

“Yes—no. I mean…”—he groaned—“Elliott, don’t you see that you can’t be there for people in an emotional, compassionate way if you’re socold?”

“No?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that aquestion?”

“No.”

He sighed, baffled. “Most of our clients here are looking to lose weight. Many have struggled with weight loss and self-worth issues for most of their lives. Can you see how having a trainer shouting at them that they aren’t strong enough isn’t the bestapproach?”

“But it’s true—they aren’t strongenough.”

“Words aren’t always necessary,” hestated.

“I hardly speak to them. I hardly speak to anyone,” I replied. It was true, too. I kept my words to a minimum. Most people didn’t have a clue that I even stuttered, which was exactly the point. I hardly stuttered anymore, anyway. Stuttering was a weakness of mine, and over the past few years, I’d made it my mission to not reveal any weaknesses to anyone. I took a lot of speech therapy, and currently my stutters only came out when I was thrown off orupset.

“That’s another issue,” he told me. “Everyone says you’reweird.”

“Weird?”

“Like, you’re mute, unless you’re calling people weak. You don’t engage with the clients. When they’re good, you don’t tellthem.”

“How will that helpthem?”

“It’s called positive reinforcement. It’s beyondhelpful.”

“I’m not going to do that,” I toldhim.

He nodded. “That’s fine, because you’refired.”

“Oh?”

“Dude, why do you say everything like it’s aquestion?”

I remainedsilent.

He stared at me. “You can leave now.” I pushed myself up from the chair and before I left his office, he called out one last time. “Make sure to clean out your locker, too. The new trainer is coming in in about thirtyminutes.”

I headed to the locker room and collected all my things. As I walked out toward the weightlifting section, I overheard a few people celebrating the fact that I wouldn’t be back again. They all hated me, which wasshocking.

How could they hate a person they didn’t evenknow?

---