"I admire your technique," you said. "I'd like to join in."
The woman didn't respond, just panted. She'd just finished a set of dumbell curls. You and she were at the residents' gym at your building, a modest but great facility with a low ceiling that had exposed thick iron pipes snaking across the ceiling. You'd just taken a quick break from your 30-minute run. You'd been listening to R.E.M.'s album Monster, which has several songs -- Star 69, What's the Frequency, Kenneth?, Crush with Eyeliner -- that are good for running.
The woman, mid-30s, black hair, screamed as she worked out, yelling with each rep of whatever set she did, seeming to coincide with pushing herself to the limits of her ability to exert.
"What do you mean 'join in'?" she asked. "You can use the dumbells when I'm finished, it'll be two more sets."
"Sorry, I meant that I could join in as you scream," you said. "I admire the way you do that, you're giving your all and part of that for you is screaming, like Monica Seles used to."
She looked confused.
"She was a tennis player in the '90s," you said. "She grunted with many returned volleys. Played against Steffi Graf a lot. I picked up the technique sometimes when playing racquetball. It's very effective."
"I know who Monica Seles is, but are you making fun of me?" she said.
"I wouldn't offer to join in if I was making fun," you said. "I don't seek out attention for screaming or loudness, but I admire your pushing yourself as hard as you do. I thought that, while you scream, maybe I could sing loudly."
"I'd like that," she said. "Most people just stare or clear away from me, even when they recognise me outside of the gym, when walking around outside or taking the lift. One time someone saw me at the grocery store and pretended a carton of milk was too heavy. Then they mimed exerting themselves to lift it and screamed. It soured milk for me for a while."
"I mean this genuinely," you said. "When I'm running, there's a song I always get the urge to sing. I've been running for about 20 minutes and when I get to this song in my run, I'm feeling good and loose and ready to belt out the song."
"Let's do it," she said.
You nodded, fired up the treadmill again. She started another set of dumbell curls, screaming with each rep, as the first few notes of "Strange Currencies" played, you cleared your throat, ready to belt out the first few words.
