My body unwillingly moves too fast, whacking the front and forcing me to grip tight not to fall off.
“Doll, are you all right?”
Great, granny feels sorry for me.
I hate the gym so much.
“Um, yeah. Just getting my bearings.”
“I’m Susan. I haven’t seen you around. New to the joint?”
Moving my feet slower this time, I gain momentum and try to hold this conversation.
“Charlie, but it’s short for Charlotte,” I tell her, coordinating my movements. “Yes, first time here. I read this article, and I’m trying to be nicer to my body, especially since I love anything carbs, donuts, you know… the food that kills you.”
Susan smiles, nodding her head in agreement. “Doll, you look fantastic. Let me tell you a story. I’ve got eight children and fifteen grandbabies. My body has seen it all, carried a few ten pounders, too. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can prepare you for being seventy-two and chasing little ones around. That’s why I come here every morning.”
I have to give it to Susan, she doesn’t look in her seventies, early sixties at best.
“I also heard that gyms are great for socializing. Look, Susan, it’s not like I’m desperate to meet a guy, but you know… it’s kinda been a while, and I’m pushing thirty in a few years. I just don’t know where the time has gone. Okay, wait, I lie. I focused on my career so much and opening our small firm that I didn’t have time for anyone. Now look at me, I can’t even use a cross-trainer without almost falling off,” I ramble, oversharing way too personal information.
Susan slows down her movements until she hits a complete stop. Stepping off the machine, she grabs her towel and water bottle. “I don’t do this all the time, but you strike me as a lady who can use some help. I have a son, Jesse Junior. He’s from out of town but never settled down with a woman. I think he’d be a good match. I could pass on your number.”
The humiliation just doesn’t stop. Jesse Junior certainly doesn’t seem like my type. An out-of-towner means country boy on some isolated farm expecting me to raise his kids and bake pies every day.
“You know what?” I say, keeping a smile and the conversation amicable. “If the next time you see me, I’m still single, you pass me Jesse’s number.”
“Junior, doll, Jesse Junior,” she corrects me. “Jesse is my husband, and Lord knows he’d eat you up like a hungry wolf.” Susan waves goodbye, and walks toward the restroom, disappearing behind the red door marked Ladies.
I manage to use the cross trainer for another twenty minutes, listening to Olivia Newton-John’s ‘Let’s Get Physical’ in hopes of inspiring my newfound hobby. All I can think of for twenty minutes is whether or not anyone will judge me if I wear spandex to the gym.
Slowing down my pace, I hit stop and step off the machine, knees shaking and unbalanced. I wonder how many Hershey bars I just worked off. God, I need chocolate so bad.
In an effort to forget about my sweet tooth, I decide to try another workout, casually walking past a man sitting at the machine I previously attempted to use. He’s lifting his arms, making grunts, then I realize how stupid I look since I didn’t use the machine that way, hence my abandonment earlier.
That’s it, I’m making the gym my bitch. I refuse to be a pawn in its sick and twisted game.
Spotting another machine by the corner, I make my way over and get comfortable, placing my towel on the chair. This one looks easy. All I have to do is pull the lever-looking thing and work on my arms.
I’m about five minutes in, and I am certain my limbs will need to be amputated tomorrow. Grabbing my towel, I stand, bumping into a man, accidentally resting my hands on his chest.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I just wasn’t looking,” I apologize, out of breath.
He rests his hands on my shoulders, pushing me away but kindly and in a non-offensive way. Baring a grin, his expression is amusing rather than annoying.
“Hey, it's cool. My fault.” He pulls one of his earbuds out, “Lost in some Bon Jovi… you know, gym music.”
“‘Livin’ on a Prayer’?”
He laughs, cute dimples gracing his perfectly sculpted face. Gosh, he’s gorgeous. He reminds me of someone, but I can’t figure out who.
“‘Keep the Faith,’” he answers. “But I’ll do some sets to ‘Livin’