The following are accounts of true stories that yours truly experiences on a regular basis at the gym on account of her cute boy ADD. The names are made up but the stories are real.
There are three types of gym guys that I encounter when I’m at GoodLife working on my fitness. Let’s face it, my motivations to go to the gym and exercise are not purely to meet Canadian standards for a healthy lifestyle. However, I try not to be too hard on myself for having other reasons why my co-ed workouts are so much fun.
Bachelor #1: The cutie at front desk.
A typical conversation between Karen and front desk cutie:
Cutie: Hey you! How are you today?
Karen: I’m fine thanks. I like your tie.
Cutie: Really? Thanks!
A moment of awkward smiling.
Cutie: Okay. I’m going to go change my shirt now.
Karen: (huh??) Okay.
Moral of the Story: Flirting with front desk cutie is a-okay on a Sunday afternoon when you can talk about the weather and getting drunk in Vegas. Flirting with front desk cutie is a-not-okay when his boss is watching him like a hawk trying not to explode into a volcanic laughter.
How does this one maximise your workout? Having a cute front desk boy to greet you motivates you to show up. That’s pretty much all you need really.
Bachelor #2: The hot working man.
The Scene: Karen is running on the treadmill enjoying the endorphins and Maroon 5 trying not to pass out. Enter in hot working man in his fancy dress shirt and messy hair. After half an hour of awkward eye contact and doing their own respective workouts, fate brings them both to the one Lat-Pull Down machine at the gym. The hottie is there first. But so is Karen.
Hottie: Uhhh…you know what? You can have the machine.
Karen: Uhhh…that’s alright. You were here first.
Hottie: But I insist. Take the machine.
Karen: Okay. But I will mess up all your settings and that will be annoying.
Hottie: That’s okay. I’m always on this thing. You should take it. I’m going to go and drink water or something. *insert hot smile*
Karen: Okay. *insert metaphorical faint*
Moral of the Story: Avoid this man like the plague. He is too hot for his own good. And find another machine to work your lats. Oh wait. There’s just one. Change gyms.
How does this one maximise your workout? Motivates you to use the Lat machine. Because he so graciously offered it to you. And you better pull down like your life depends on it. Because you know this man is not drinking water. He’s behind you on the chest press machine looking at you.
Bachelor #3: The mature man.
The mature man is a euphemism for the older (looking) guy at the gym. He’s cute for an older guy and you see him every morning going to work in his fancy shirt. Now you see him in gym shorts. Fun.
The scene: The stretching area. Karen and mature man are two feet away from each other.
Mature man: ……
Mature man: …..
Moral of the Story: This intellectual conversation with the mature man is a sign that its time you go to the lat pull down machine. Oh wait. Lat Pull Down area is ground zero. Yes, in this case, it is a sign to go home.
How does this one maximise your workout? In creating such an awkward atmosphere of silence, you are forced to move on from your procrastinating session in the stretch area onto the Lat machine. Which we all now know has it’s own motivation.
Alright then. It’s the end of my workout. I got my endorphins. This girl’s busting out of this joint. I change and make my way out and pass by the front desk. Front desk cutie is there along and his other front desk buddy who is equally cute and several other GoodLife employees. The object of the game here is to make it out the door without their boss noticing me . However, I smile at neither one of them in particular without realising it. Both stare at me with expressionless faces.
Other front desk cutie: Are you heading out?
What the hell is the point of this entire post?
I don’t know. I suppose I just want to tell everyone I enjoy going to the gym so much so I can record observations of the ridiculous social interaction with the opposite sex. And by that I mean record my ridiculous social interaction with the opposite sex because it is always a such special brand of fail that it makes for humorous blog posts.