Showing posts with label gym encounters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gym encounters. Show all posts

The Gym Whore

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

This morning during my usual “I want to be a hot sexy trophy wife workout” a random girl (Let’s call her Gym Whore) comes up to me and starts a conversation, which I did not want to be involved in at 630am. Some people have no clue and no game, and no charm when it comes to appropriate gym etiquettes.

Gym Whore: Hey there good looking
Me: [giving her the “what the fuck do you want” look]
Gym Whore: I see you often, you work around here?
Me: Yeah. [What a fucking psycho stalker whore]
Gym Whore: You lift?
Me: [while lifting some weights and checking out my sexy triceps] yeah
Gym Whore: So you like working out?
Me: uh…um…yeah
Gym Whore: my name is Ellie
Me: oh nice to meet you Nellie
Gym Whore: no um. It’s E-llie
Me: oh sorry Kellie ….oh ok Ellie, well, I have to go to work [walking away to the locker rooms]
Gym Whore: Where are you going?
Me: change, uh…locker room
Gym Whore: oh you aren’t staying?
Me: eh...nooo..I usually get dressed before I go to work ya know?
Gym Whore: ah well I guess I'll see you later, I mean I'm going to keep working out, like I gotta keep lifting you know, (I have already started walking away at this point) like i lift a lot you know, cause like I'm really into training, like big muscles and whatever, but like...I guess I'll see ya later…

Seriously. Working out has become the new let's mack it to “NYC.lezie” spot.

Working out is my life, please don’t try and talk to me Gym Whore, Can’t you see I have no time for you and your chatty chattyness?

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My Liberation

Thursday, May 17, 2007

A fter my extreme amount of champagne-filled night yesterday, I forced myself to the gym during my lunch break.

It always makes me feel better about myself when I work out instead of shoving down greasy cafeteria food down my throat at work. On the plus side, there are really good looking mid-town stay at home wives at my gym during the hours of 12 and 2p.

After my 40 minute workout, I run to the locker room and took a quick shower and came back to my spot to find a woman standing – naked, her crotch almost touching my shit to the point where I wanted to tell her to get her vag off my suit. But I didn’t. I made believe I was fixing my hair in the mirror and waited patiently for the exhibitionist to get away from my locker.

So wouldn’t you know it, I waited for 2 minutes and she didn’t move—she decided to apply lotion all over her naked body—it reminded me of that Demi Moore movie when she was a stripper and dressed as a teacher. I don’t know. It just did.

Now, I don’t think I look like a licker. Although many women showed interest in the locker room and during yoga…but this particular woman kept smiling at me..and I’m pretty sure she was smiling at me in a very inappropriate way. I looked directly her way and her eyes locked on mine. I am not shy, if someone smiles, I will smile back except…when I am rushing to go to work, PMSing, in the elevator at 530pm or reading at Barnes.

She was something else. She made me blush. It was probably the fact that she was greasing up her body or Demi’s movie. Not too sure. But I can’t remember the last time I blushed that noticeably. I could feel the redness creeping over my cheecks, and after quickly smiling back I looked away, afraid to sneak another peek. I seemed that shy!

There are times when I can’t handle when men or women catcall me or make stupid remarks and I get really upset when someone gets too close to me on the subway. But throw a cute all greased up naked girl my way and I’m a total loser.

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