Average Jane

I Shake my Fist at Joe Biden: Swine Flu (H1N1) Part 1

According to Joe Biden, I shouldn’t have left the house. I certainly shouldn’t have volunteered in the rain at a Pet Fiesta with throngs of snotty kids, their slightly off-kilter parents, and respective (too often dressed up) wet, smelly dogs. And I certainly shouldn’t have followed it up with a trip to the gym where sweaty strangers drip sweat all over gym mats that get cleaned as often as I get laid.

But really, since when did I do the rational thing?

So, smelling like wet dog and chilled from the rain, I hit the gym for a quick workout.

As I walked toward the aforementioned germ infested mats, I saw something peculiar. A dude, in a headband, dancing around the gym.

First he was dancing on the chest press. The the upright row. He danced his way into the aerobics room where he proceeded to do walking handstands for, what I assume, was one full song. He bopped his way over to the ticep pull down which is when I lost track of him as I was still on the floor inhaling the good stuff of sweaty, disease infected lads and lasses.

On this day, inspired by God knows what, I hopped onto the vertical climber where I lasted about 3 minutes, but was too ashamed to jump off before the clock had clicked over to 5. About the time I got off the machine, Mr. Dance Dance Revolution had made his way over to the treadmill. How he was going to continue to get his groove on while on a moving belt was a mystery (Just ask OK Go). For what it’s worth, this guy made me smile. He was having an absolute blast. I’ve been known to wiggle it just a little bit in front of the free weights between sets myself.

I walked over to the Expresso Bike, he walked my way. In a split second decision, I awkwardly waived him over. “I just wanted to thank you for… enjoying yourself at the gym. I never see people having fun in here. It was a nice surprise.” I hopped on my bike and picked my course. Shockingly enough, he hopped on the bike next to mine and started to ride. 20 minutes later, we had gotten through all the basics. His name, his occupation, what he was cranking as he bounced machine to machine, what we were up to later that night. He walked away and I powered on. I saw he had stopped at the table with business cards and was writing something. I knew what was coming. He was going to give me his number. He wasn’t Jewish, that I knew from his name. He was nice enough, if not slightly awkward. But maybe not my type… what do I do?

Do I jump off the bike? Run into the locker room? No. I couldn’t. I’d be twisting fate. If he wants to give me his number and turned around and I was gone, vanished, I’d be the lamest person of all time ever. So I held my breath and waited for whatever happens to happen. Moments later he appeared at my side with a card, his number and name written on the back with a note: “Give me a call if you’re bored later.”

I thanked him, wiped my forehead with my forearm, and kept on pedaling toward the finish line…

…To be continued


Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. My New Dating Policy: Swine Flu (H1N1) Part 2 « Average Jane pingbacked on 9 years, 2 months ago
  2. This date wasn’t worth the calories « Average Jane pingbacked on 9 years, 2 months ago


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