I guess I knew that my gym was popular with gay men. What good is a gym without a gay population. My husband is ridiculously handsome, but he’ll never work out and preen like a go-go dancer. Well, maybe he would, but it would take a lot of Heinekin, and I’m pretty sure that we’d giggle, not get horny.
My gym buddy is going back to college. I guess it’s good, perhaps his PhD at Princeton will prove more useful than doing plank with me at at our local gym. I’m not really clear on how that will all work out, he’s an academic, and I’m thinking that he’ll only get smarter but the days of getting cuter are dwindling.
What’s fabulous about having boy genius at the gym (he’s 20 and working on a PhD at Princeton, you do the math) is that I am now made aware of the cruising at the gym.
Really, that Go Go Dancer from the really hot spot in WeHo? Well, he and another guy keep approaching bald men and showing them something on their blackberrys. Porn perhaps? Is there recruiting? The preening isn’t what I thought it was, apparently there’s a lot of eye contact happening, and the men with the amazing bodies who never seem to sweat just might be doing there real workouts somewhere else.
I’ve been working out there for six years. Six years of mating games before my eyes, and I never noticed it.
I really think my gym buddy should skip the PhD and stay to snark with me.