Monday, May 23, 2011
At the gym
I was at the gym today. It was chest day, so I was doing a lot of flat bench exercises. The gym has a metal roof and already it's hot down here in the south. I was sweatin' up a storm. My shirt was plastered to my chest and my biceps were pumped and glistening.
I was feeling sort of cocky--throwing the weight around and really givin' it my all--when I noticed in the mirror that this guy was checking me out. He was about my height and weight. In pretty good shape. Nice muscled calves and arms--he had on one of those Underarmor shirts and it clung to his torso in such a way that he might as well had not been wearing a shirt. When he saw that I had caught him looking, I expected him to look away. That's what most guys do. But not him. Instead he flashed me a wicked smile.
I took that as a sign, but I really didn't have much time to react. Two of his buddies came over and all them of them gathered around the bench press - taking turns spotting each other. I shrugged it off. He was busy. So what?
Well, you know how it is. You're concentrating on the weights when you glace over. He's giving me that wide-ass grin again. His friends are distracted - fucking with each other - they don't notice.
I think: why don't I walk over and start a conversation? I'm bigger than this guy's friends. Maybe I'll run 'em off.
But before I can move, they do. Toward the doors. I think: What the hell? What was that? A tease. So, I'm back to the weights, throwing things around with a little more force and a little more attitude.