Thursday, June 24, 2010
I think a guy at the gym was flirting with me today. Don't get me wrong, as those occurrences become rarer and rarer, I should be thankful. But this morning, as my limber Lothario strutted his stuff a mere two feet in front of my face, prancing around like some bird fanning his feathers before busting into full on splits (euw...) I have to admit, I wasn't flattered. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to work really hard on my abs, before heading out of the gym. As I was leaving, I saw suburban-version Jason Statham, bench pressing like 700 pounds. I slowed my pace, pulled out my ponytail, shook my head and stuck my butt out as I took a sip of water. He ignored me, as usual.