Gym Rats

So I'm trying to be better and actually get into the gym now that summer's over. I've been moderately good the past few weeks. Yoga, abs class, step...today was spinning. I attended a noon spin class at the hoity-toity gym for my lunch break and to force myself to get away from work. (not much forcing there)
I enter spin studio stage right and am accosted with blaring dance club music. Now, I like the stuff just as much as the next person however this was a bit over the top for noon on a weekday. So the instructor is pedaling away (his seat was way to low, shoulders were pumping way too much and he was way too big to be talking with the effeminate lisp he had...I can only assume he juiced for the aesthetic benefit of someone named Guy or Stephan)
We spin along to his instruction and I'm catching odd random movements to my left. The guy on the bike next to me (clad in baggy zebra striped pants, doo-rag, and leather yard work gloves) is shadow-boxing!
Now we've got "sauce-gut" in the front, "Mike-Tyson-on-a-bike" to the left and now the lady who came in late and faced her bike perpendicular to mine is BLOWING ON ME!!! I've found there's nothing really worse than going anaerobic while breathing in someone else's exhaled lunch fumes.
Mercifully the class ended. It really wasn't a bad class. It made me work which is what I came to do, but I think next time I'll get there a bit earlier and secure a better spot.