Gym Guy

A lot of people who hear about Prong Two have suggestions as to where I can meet prospective dates. One of the more popular suggestions has been the gym. "There are LOADS of single guys at my gym," they boast! "You're way more likely to find someone who takes care of themselves and who's in great shape," they claim. I sort of don't care about The Dude being in great shape. But that other stuff is probably true.

And yet, I am not keen on the gym as the dating Mecca. Unless! Are we thinking of the gym as a litmus test? Because then maybe we're onto something. Any guy who sees me flailing around on the elliptical machine, purple-faced and sweaty in my ratty Canada! t-shirt and the boy's gym shorts I purchased at Zellers seven years ago and still thinks I'm eligible may be okay with me.

I did give the gym a go a few years ago. The results were not good. No wait. That's not entirely true. When asking myself if my ass looked good in various skirts, the answer was mostly a resounding "Daaaaaamn. YES." But as way of generating dating prospects: not successful. As it turns out, I'm not the sort of person who can pick up guys at the gym.

First of all, the only way I could convince myself to go to the gym was to go as soon as I woke up, before my brain could form enough compelling arguments to not go. And since my daily routine included a long journey on the Bus of Hellfire and Damnation to my office in scenic Industrial Mississauga, this meant that I was at the gym at dark o'clock each morning. This may be shocking news to you, internet, but there were not a lot of likely dating candidates at the gym at 6 am. In fact, most of the other patrons were of the geriatric variety. I'm not being unkind; without me in the mix to skew the results, we're looking at an average age of 72.

But then! Then Gym Guy started showing up. And soon, me, a dozen seniors and Gym Guy were there every morning at 6 am. It was miraculous! Frankly, Gym Guy was waaaaaay out of my league. Each morning he performed countless fancy maneuvers on the weight machines, muscles rippling and flexing effortlessly as he smiled dazzlingly at the other patrons. He helped the seniors adjust the machines and made pleasant conversation! He turned the t.v. channel to Newsworld, but first checked with other gym-goers to make sure it was okay! So polite; so blindingly handsome! I looked on, gasping and flailing from my post on the elliptical machine, smitten and mute. I thought about doing something drastic, like buying yoga pants at Lululemon. But who are we kidding? Are a pair of $90 yoga pants going to magically transform me into a glowing and fresh and graceful exercise ninja instead of sweaty and raspberry-hued klutz? No. No they are not.

I felt sure my relationship with Gym Guy would be limited permanently to the maniacal grins and muttered greetings I flung compulsively his way as he passed by on the way to the water fountain. But then something truly amazing happened: one morning Gym Guy made a sharp detour from the weight machines and climbed onto the elliptical machine NEXT TO MINE.

I decided to play things cool. I continued my flailing. I kept my eyes glued to Newsworld. And then, for reasons unknown even to me, I deviated from the 'playing it cool' plan. Or maybe I took the plan too far? Regardless, saying 'hi' to Gym Guy while casually taking a swig from my water bottle proved to be an insurmountable physical challenge:

Me: [picking up water bottle] Hi!

Gym Guy: Good morni..

Me: [sputtering the entire contents of water bottle down my shirt] *cough* *cough* *cough*

GG: Oh hey! Are you okay...?

Me: [trying desperately maintain footing on the elliptical machine] *cough* *cough* Sure! *cough* *cough* I'm o.. *cough* okay!

GG: Are you sure?

Me: [catching my toe on the pedal thingy] *cough* *cough* *cough*

GG: Woah there!

Me: [spectacular wipeout and subsequent face-plant on gym floor] *cough* *cough* *cough*

GG: [turning off his machine] Are you SURE you're okay?

Me: [leaping to my feet] I'm okay! I'm okay! Yeah, that bleeding should stop any time now. No big deal! Woah, is that the time? I should head out. Work! Gotta keep that ear to the grindstone! Or is it 'nose to the grindstone'? I can never remember. Ha ha ha! Anyway. Don't worry about me, I've got a trick knee, I always limp like this. Time to hit the salt mines! Have a great day!!!

GG: ....

Gym Guy steered clear of the elliptical machines after that. Shocker. And now, anyone who suggests I try meeting guys at the gym hears that story. There's always a brief pause followed by ..."The grocery store! That's supposed to be a great place to meet people!"