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Other gym crushes were less pheromonal but they still got me motivated to go and try new things. The outfits were also super fun but in reality, I hated tennis. Yes, bitch, I can see your old as fuck tits are fake and they’ve hardened into two petrified spherules pointing down to your mid-century C-section scar. As it turns out, when I went to the optometrist, she told me I have difficulty judging distance which would definitely make me a bad tennis player. This lasted some months and then I found out he was dating one of the swimming instructors who was like, half my age, which was cool but awkward. That whole experience unleashed the cougar in me and I haven’t looked back. Can a person take this into their own hands or do they have to wait for lightening to strike? As I write this, I’m here right now and for the past couple of hours I’ve been looking around and while there is currently one cute dude, seemingly NOT a brow-beaten father of a toddler, I have terrible gaydar.
I used to play round robins with these horrible wretched women who would hate playing with me because I was a novice. Scroll back to 2015 blog posts if you dare, those were the days, my friend. Have been lately thinking it might be time to settle down. I’m looking through my ol’ trusty Ok Cupid dating site and all the age appropriate menfolk I find interesting live far away. That means in all your relationships, you, sir, have been the one who pokes the sweet baby angel bear and manipulate the situation so she seems like the crazy one. Let me describe him: He has one of those trim beards and fade hair cuts like from Hastings Barbershop (could be straight or gay) and is wearing a tight top with nipple protrusion and sleek pants with high water booty (gay and gay), I know he drives a Mazda hatchback thingy (straight? Never mind, he’s too young anyway, I have to get over that.
When I first joined the gym, I was big into group fitness and coming every day because there was a daycare there for my own toddler situation and I got the Me Time that was scarce back then. Gym crushes are healthy in the way in that they get you to the gym and putting forth your best Lululemon camel toe.
The golden rule of a gym crush is never EVER talk to a gym crush.
LOCATION: Holiday Inn Silicon Valley, 1350 N First Street, San Jose CA 95112.Total deal breaker, two sets of horns makes for an awkward tango. Also he left the gym after a few months, I prolly scared the shit out of him. I didn’t have a tennis crush per se, I had special Friday afternoon one -on-one stroke tutorials, if you will, with the tennis pro. The python squeezes the cobra to death as the cobra chomps into the python a lethal injection of its venom. If that’s not a metaphor for the political climate on your Facebook newsfeed and its battle of wits in any given comment section, I don’t know what is. If I heard them say “squeeze like you’re a Japanese Ham Sandwich” one more time, I was going to implode all my hidden rage, disguised under a thin veil of faux serenity, and scream NAMASTE? So after 6 years I stopped going and never looked back. I rolled on a ball for 10 minutes, almost getting hit in the head by a big dude swinging a kettle bell, then I trotted over to the inversion machine and hung like a bat for another two minutes. The people are a motley bunch of old and not so old people.Anyway, at first after I got over the initial horror of this spectacle, I then became disgusted the all the litter on the pathway. Mine is hovering around 3.0 -3.9 where shaking of indoor objects may be visible. I’m looking up on google what is a Japanese ham sandwich and urban dictionary has a whole other meaning for it and it doesn’t involve lettuce and tomato, but may or may not involve mayo. I’ve been a member for 21 years and joined for the fitness but stayed for the beer. The latest is an influx of families with toddler types. Let me tell you, helicopter parenting is alive and well in these parts. Problems include sometimes it’s out of order, and other times it’s filled with toddlers LEARNING TO SWIM IN IT, and a hovering mom standing in front of the knob that turns the jets on.
By the end of his sesh, he would make a giant puddle on the floor that he would bend over and clean it up with a towel. After he would leave for the iron room, I would go to his machine and climb in his balmy after-aura. Yesterday I saw a dude, who I had never seen before, he was maybe even older than me with slightly disheveled hair, and beard with silvers in it (ooof! He had a crumpled, wizened but pleasant face, the kind that doesn’t knock you out at first but grows on you.