Nuts and Bolts Workout

I just returned from my lunch time workout at the gym. Operation Bangin' Beach Body aka Operation I Like to Wear as Little Clothing as Humanly Possible and Still Look Good is in full effect. Since there is a location of my gym right in my office building's underground maze I have NO DAMN EXCUSE why I shouldn't be there during lunch time. While today wasn't my first day there, it was definitely blog worthy. Lesson learned: there are some strange folks in the gym in the middle of the day.

First, after changing my clothes I go further downstairs to torture room *ahem* I mean machine room. I find a free elliptical machine (love that machine) and pop my Ipod earbuds into my ears. As Beyonce is singing the hell out of Deja Vu to warm me up on the machine, I notice a man with a sweatband and mactching wrist bands sitting on a machine behind me and slightly to my right. Initially I figured, he must be exhausted from just completing his workout and focus on my task at hand. Later, as Leaders of the New School are telling me all about the "Scenario", I look up and see dude still sitting there now with his head tilted slightly to the left in my direction.

Oh no this can't be happening. Is this perv sitting here watching my.........

I calm myself down. I don't want to jump to conclusions. But I rationalize with myself that if he's still sitting there by the time Biggie's "Nasty Girl (The Remix)" comes blasting through my earphones, I may have to kick in the door, waving the four four. So I close my eyes and pray this man is not still sitting there. Luckily, as soon as I hear "I go...on and on and on and on and...." the geeky creepy dude is gone. THANK YOU LORD!!! I swear I didn't want to be the lone chocolate chip in the gym who then had to resort to violence because this creep was trying to get his jollies off by sneaking peaks under my gym shorts.

As Luther is bellowing 'A THOUSAND KISSES FROM YOU IN NEVAH TOOOO MUCH", my earbud pops out and the lady who's been working out next to me the entire time decides to try to strike up a conversation. Lady I don't come to the gym to socialize. I ain't got time for that! No I don't say that but I politely nod and pop my earbud back in just in time to hear my favorite part: "Who needs to go to work to hustle for anotha dollar/I'd rather be with you 'cause you make my heart scream and holla". SANG IT LUTHA!!! But yeah, I remember I need to get back to work to hustle for another dollar so I pick up the speed to get my 3 miles in.

3.00

I've never seen such a glorious number in my life. I am sweating like...well apparently like the governor in South Carolina who dipped out for 4 days to take his honey dip to Argentina and didn't even tell his wife or his kids that he wouldn't be there for Father's Day (Sidebar: As a future novelist, I doubt I could make this shit up! But I digress). I'm sweating but damn I feel good. I strip and hop in the shower damn near about to whistle. That's how good I feel. I jump out the shower, wrap two towels around me (clearly these itty bitty towels are made for itty bitty chicks with itty bitty bootays, hence my need for 2....or 3), and strut over to my locker. Adjacent to my locker is a station of hair dryers for the gym patrons to use. I've seen some disgusting things done with those hair dryers but that's another story for another day. The same woman who tried to engage me in conversation is there drying her hair. I scoot past her and begin the hurried process of drying off, lotioning up, and getting dressed. Now at home, the towel would drop to the floor the minute I was semi dry. However, at the gym, I like to be as covered up as possible when changing clothes. But at some point you have to be exposed.

So I bend over to pull my panties on, when I hear a southern drawl exclaim:

"Oh what a cute mole!"

Now this is something that only a select few know about me (until now) but I have a mole on my bootay. The location is irrelevant for the purpose of this blog just know its there. Needless to say(but I'll say it anyway..LOL), I. WAS. MORTIFIED. What the fuck do you say to that????!!!!!

I instantly shot up with panties pulled up higher than they really needed to be. I turned around and she was just blow drying her hair as if she had complimented me on my shoes. I turned back around, threw my clothes on and didn't even unbuckle my sandals to put them back on. I double checked my locker to make sure I didn't leave anything and BOLTED. I'd had enough of these fruitcakes to last me for the rest of the day (Come on, I live in New York, you know I'll encounter some more doozies tomorrow..LOL)

This looks like this is going to be OPERATION Dodge a Nut aka OPERATION Bangin' Beach Body aka OPERATION I Like to Wear as Little Clothing I Can Get Away With Without Having Some Unauthorized Nut Comment on My Mole.