Just for the record, I didn't move from the eliptical because I was working out next to a guy with Downs Syndrome, I moved because a treadmill suddenly became available. And because God is always watching and judging, as soon as the treadmill next to me became available, I was forced to work out next a cast member from The Hills. It was if she leapt from the pages of some type of fashion forward fitness/safe tanning/natural beauty magazine to make me feel like a low end drag queen/female rugby player. At least the retarded guy made me feel smart.
As I have learned in my years of sporadic gym attendance, girls like this don't go to the gym alone. They always have some guy with a bicep barbed wire tattoo making sure no one talks to their property. I immediately started looking around for the likely suspect. I didn't have to wait long, mainly because he came up and took her bottled water as she ran UPHILL on that treadmill like she was running for her life.
When I tell you that this chick was perfect, I'm not kidding. Shit, I'd fuck her. And yet her boyfriend was on the other side of town from hot. He was wearing those super shiny, too big basketball shorts and a sleeveless black t-shirt, in addition to the requisite indoor baseball hat. Worse, he was stretching in front of the mirror (why does this require Evian?) and as he stretched, leaning back and forth with his legs spread, admiring his douchebaggery, he framed his package with his hands.
Like right out there, without a care in the world.
Talk about retarded.
If a guy like that can snag my treadmill neighbor, I'm going to need to start adopting cats. But then I thought about it. Shit, I've pulled guys a hell of lot hotter and hipper than this goober, and I can't mosey at that incline, much less do it in a flimsy tank top with a built-in bra. I was perplexed, really because I didn't want to do that obvious, "Oh, hot blonde chick must be dumb." Hey, I'm all for sisterhood.
I'm sure she's a rocket scientist.
Who dates a guy who frames his manhood with his hands in front of a public mirror.
Who'm I kidding? Some stereotypes are apparently true. So I ask you, who's the real retard...