Sunday, May 18th, 2008
Dear Guy Who Works at My Gym
Dear guy who works at my gym,
I think you’re adorable. In fact, I’ve even entertained the idea of mounting you and riding you bare back in a lusty dream or two. However, your innuendos are rather ambiguous.
All of sudden, it seems you’ve take a particular liking to me. You make it a point to say hello when I come in and good-bye when I leave, but I’m still not sure whether this recent urge to talk to me is little more than an inside joke you cooked up with your friends.
You’ve had the opportunity to come and chat with me while I worked out, or did you not see me? That day, when I was deliberately walking around with my chin up high, stomach tucked in, and my chest and ass prominently on display, I stole a few glances in your direction hoping you’d notice and come say hi.
Well, if the complete truth is what you’re after, for the first 15 minutes, I didn’t actually know it was you. For those 15 minutes, you were just some mysterious hot guy that wandered into the gym. I could only make out your well toned arms, a few shaggy tufts of dark curls peeking out from beneath your cap, and the lower half of your face while you worked out on the stair climber. But when I did recognize you, it made me smile a little bit on the inside–not so much when you didn’t even notice me.
Then, when I was finishing the last leg of my workout, I saw you go behind the counter. From upstairs all I could see were your legs. As I watched those legs walk around, I was hoping you’d at least stay until I left, but the timer said I still had thirteen minutes and forty three seconds to go–would you really stay that long on what I was sure was your day off?
You couldn’t have known how excited I was when the answer turned out to be yes. I spent an extra few minutes in the locker room making sure my lips were especially plump and my hair looked just disheveled enough to frame my face. In my mind, it would have been like a shampoo commercial where my hair would be blowing behind me and everything would get all slow motion and your jaw would drop to the floor upon my entrance.
The reality was much more bleak–but you did manage to become ambiguous once again. You were busy talking to one of your buddies. I looked over at you as I walked by the counter, but you didn’t notice me–at least, not until I was opening the door and you made it a point to yell HEY and startle me just enough that I leapt a good three inches into the air. I can only imagine how not cute I looked just then. But when I turned and saw your smiling face saying good-bye to me, it was all better.
I’m not quite sure how you do it or why it happens, but whenever you say hi and good-bye, I feel like a school girl again. Butterflies tickle my tummy and I suddenly have the urge to giggle and wave coyly. But, I’m not in school anymore and I really can’t stand this amount of ambiguity. Please, just tell me what you want already, or at least ask me for my name. I promise I’ll answer.
Sincerely,
Girl diligently working out to look hot for you