Talk talk talk

Waaay back in January I decided enough was enough, joined the Y, got myself a trainer and went to town on my "problem areas". Her name is Veronica. She's a tiny thing in great shape, one of those people who gets up at 6am without the help of coffee or dynamite. She has shoulder length blond hair, stands about 5 foot tall, is 55 years old and has a constant smear of coral coloured lipstick on her teeth. At first, I would tell her about the lipstick, but now that I dislike her more and more with every passing second, I let her leave it there. Ha. Take that, dignity. Before I delve into the meat of the matter, let me just say this: she is a kind and thoughtful person, energetic and motivating.
But.
Oh yes, but. She never shuts up. Talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk TALK. And more talk. Not only does she talk talk talk to me, she is talk talk talking to everyone else in the gym. Now I'm all for community and open lines of communication - but not so much on my dime, and not on a constant basis. If you will:
It's early, I haven't had coffee, (coffee before gym makes me extra sweaty) I don't feel like working out, I'm pissed about something I can't put my finger on. Enter The Trainer. She's 5 minutes late. She is bubbly, talking to everyone, waving at me. She comes over, she wants to TALK. And talk she does, "Hi, how was your workout? How was your weekend? I went to a yoga retreat, my ear hurts, I saw a cool play last night, the traffic was bad." Teeth covered in lipstick. I shudder.
Now, when someone is really talking to me, I mean really, it feels like an assault. They are more talking at you than to you. What I tend to do in these situations is send them messages through my head without actually speaking. While she talks, I am thinking "Shut it. Shut it now. Stopping it and shutting it immediately. Talking - you, stop now. I will end you. Dear sweet Jesus, the talking must end. I will smash your face in to end this infernal talking." I am not listening to a word she is saying as I am concentrating all my efforts into making it stop. And throughout this verbal assault, lipstick on teeth. Ughhhhhh.
The relationship didn't start out this way, of course. We began as most do, with a series of polite exchanges, a few lame jokes here and there to break the tension. It didn't take too long for me to realize that something was amiss. The constant ass out hugs should have tipped me off, the 5 minutes late here and there should have sent me running, the talking. Shit. The TALKING. But, it's the inappropriateness that begs the final question: what am I still doing with her? Inappropriate you say? How so? A few months ago she had put a pull up into my routine. I had to lie on the ground in the squat cage and pull myself up, effectively touching my chest to the bar. No small feat. Well, in trying to explain to me how to do it, she could have said, "Touch your chest to the bar." You know, like a normal person. She says, "Kiss the bar with your nipples." Oh dear.
On another occasion she was making me do a particularly unpleasant exercise so she turned to some dude and said, "Oh, aren't I horrible to her?" To which I chirped in with, "Yeah you can practically see her horns" (because she's the Devil, right?). She then says, "I don't have horns but I am HORNY."
Wow. Ever throw up in your mouth before? Yeah...
So what's a girl to do? I want to keep working out but I can't see this woman anymore. She makes me psychotic with rage. I can't talk to her about this stuff and it would be weird to train with someone else, like cheating on your hairdresser. Dudsie says not to do anything out of guilt and to that I agree. And as much as she makes me crazy, she's good material. I'll keep you posted.