HELEN: We adore Elaine.

JERRY: She wants to say hi, she’s with her new boyfriend.

HELEN: What’s he like?

JERRY: He’s nice, bit of a close talker.

HELEN: A what?

JERRY: You’ll see.

 

Tomorrow marks my 4th spin class.  I know that I will feel differently about it when I sit on the saddle (again) but right now I would really prefer to sleep in.  I’m tired.  Spin class is tomorrow at 9:15AM and then I’ll come home and attempt to do some studying for my Health Exam.  Then I will probably do some laundry and I’ll have to play with Jack because he’s exhibiting signs of insanity from lack of playtimewithMama.  I know – who can blame him!? Then back to the gym for my session with the nazi trainer – think we’ll be working on legs tomorrow.  Oh damn.  Spin class AND legs?  Ok – so after I crawl to my car and use my hands to steer and operate the pedals I will do my examination and probably around that time I’ll remember the other millions of things I needed to do but forgot.  I should write a list.

I really have to tell everyone in the universe (left over endorphins from earlier this afternoon talking…) I absolutely LOVE spin class.  I love everything about it.  It is just enough pain to make life worthwhile.  It is just insane enough to be challenging.  It is just hard enough to keep my attention for an hour.  It is just extreme enough to give you a work out that you feel for the whole entire day and even though you’re exhausted as (can I say it?) FUCK – you still want to go back the next day and conquer the ‘hills’ again.  So I’m basically hooked.  But I get hooked to things easily.  I am a walking addiction waiting to be attached to anything that has enough of a rush to hold my attention.  Luckily alcohol never really appealed to me after the first few episodes of binge drinking in basements of girlfriends while parents were away (liquor cabinets  are never a good idea, folks).  P.S. The consequence to an addiction can’t be too horrible. But I digress.  Horribly.

Spin class.  Ok – so my very first class I took I was hooked.  I walked in with cushion in hand (those bike seats are no fuckin’ joke!), gallon of water and a beach towel to soak up my sweat and had no idea what I was in for.  The first 30 minutes I was like – whoa.  I can do this.  My goal was simply to keep it moving.  If I couldn’t stand up one more time (to do the simulated hills during the spin class – high high tension and get up and act like you’re climbing a hill and pray for a truck to come along and either hit you so you’ll die, or pull over and offer you a ride) at least I would just keep it moving.  Sit my ass in the saddle and peddle hard in time with the instructor.  And I did.  I got up when I got up and I sat down when my thighs were cussing me out.

Half way into the class this guy comes in and starts the class right next to me.  Great, I thought to myself, now I can’t make those noises I was making! He smiles hello and I smile back trying not to wink as sweat pours into my left eye. For the rest of the class I inwardly grunted and panted my way through – now even more determined to make it through the class because even though I was not interested in this guy – I am not one to be a pussy.  I’m competitive and no guy is going to see me fail and act like a wuss.  Comes from having 3 older brothers who torture you every day of your existence and where "mercy" isn’t even acknowledged as a word.  So we finish – and I’m mopping up the sweat from my body, the floor, the bike, and the bike seat (oooh! that reminds me of this guy I spoke to the other day that admitted to sniffing a bike seat after a hot girl got off of it at the gym.  OMG… like how hilarious and kinky and sweet is that? lol!) trying to regain feeling in my legs.  Anyway – I leave the gym and I’m really trying hard to walk at this point.  But I feel good.  Really good.  And I go around the corner to the parking lot and there the guy is talking to a friend of his I presume.  So I say hi and keep walking and he talks really low so I stop and ask "huh?" He says something again and I still can’t hear a word he is saying so I start to walk towards him.  He starts walking and closes the gap.  And keeps on walking.  He’s now "this" far away from me and he repeats what he said.  But I don’t hear it.  Because this guy is breathing the air I’m expelling from my mouth – directly.  I mean he’s that close to me.  I finally realize he’s talking to me about the class and I back up trying to make it seem like it’s …normal. He kind of leans forward because apparently in his family you speak directly into people’s mouths when you carry on conversations.  I nod my head to something he said, say goodbye to Mr. Close Talker and his friend (who is probably thanking me for rescuing him from Mr InYourFace) and go on my way. 

I know when guys are trying to "hit" on me.  I know when people are trying to get close to me, too, and use cute little excuses to get closer.  But I also know people who are just clueless when it comes to personal space.  This guy was not trying to pick me up.  He just had no clue about personal space.  If I see him tomorrow I may need to give him a quick study on it.   

Have a great Monday everyone!  I will be logged in through out the day.  Look for me for a few hours around Noon, and then again during the early evening.  As always, if you need to make an appointment go ahead and schedule something (morning, noon, or night) and I’ll see what I can do to accommodate you.  If I don’t get the chance to blog about this later — thanks to all who made this a great and busy weekend.  It was fun meeting new callers and it’s always fun to reconnect with some of my favorite older clients too (I mean older like know you long time older not Geriatric old!).  Talk with you soon!