Whoa, steady there Mister!
I looked around as I grunted with the Flying Bird machine in the gym. I had put it up a weight and as a result, my forehead was bulging with veins like Arnold Schwarzenegger's forearm when he was whisking the eggs.
Uh?
I grunted as I let the weights collapse with a gentle clink back to the resting position.
A middle-aged man who looked as if he had covered himself in glue and rolled through Primark's Reduced to Clear aisle approached me with an upraised hand.
Just worried for a moment, that was a lot of weight you were pushing!
He stopped in front of me and stood with his hands on his hips a bright beaming smile on his face.
I grabbed my water and examined him with a caustic eye whilst taking a swig.
I had not been pushing a lot of weight, I was only on baby weights because of Covid and lockdowns and getting old 'n shit.
Nah, It wasn't really. Still getting back into it after all the lockdowns you know?
I let him have a smile. Just a small one, to show that I wasn't some mad loner prick that doesn't like being spoken to by strangers at the gym when I was working out.
Even though, I am indeed a mad loner prick who doesn't like being spoken to by strangers at the gym.
I was going to hop onto that machine myself...
He looked at me expectantly, like a hamster spying some M&Ms in my hand.
I raised an eyebrow in the hope of coaxing more words out of him.
So can I chum you on it?
He hopped from foot to foot like a demented weasel listening to Miley Cyrus.
What? He wanted to Chum Me? What the fuck was that? Wasn't Chum some kind of dog food in jelly? Did he want to cover me in dog food and lick it off? Holy shit, I only came to the gym to work out not to get some manner of beefy wank?!
So, can I hop on then?
Dog-Food waved a hand holding a towel at the machine as if to indicate he wanted a go.
I cocked an ear for some fairground music but could hear none.
He was still standing there. His grin now predatory, no doubt imaging slurping up all that beefy jelly.
Somewhat hesitantly, I stood and moved to the side, still clutching my water bottle.
I will put the weight down a few notches, eh? Don't worry. I will put it back up for you when it is your turn!
He sat on the magical flying Bird machine and started flapping the arms of it with great huffs and grunts.
Oh wait a minute, I knew what was going on now. He wanted to chum me on the machine. Were we to be friends now? Would I have to introduce him to the Good Lady as my new bro? Would we meet up on the local beach and kick sand in the faces of the non-gym bunnies? Would we go vest-shopping and visit the spray-on tan place together? In my mind's eye, my life was careening away from me to places I was not entirely sure I wanted to go. Your turn! Dog-Food had a hand stretched out toward the Flying Bird machine like a Gameshow hostess from the eighties pointing at a box of cabbages. Was this it? I looked down at my ring finger, surely I would never be able to fit another one on there? I twitched a little at the thought of other rings. Um, I am actually done. Cheers though. I backed away nervously. Yup, I am exactly that mad loner prick who doesn't like being spoken to by strangers at the gym when I am working out.
not like that you filthy-minded mares