Tim the Trainer, god bless him, is oddly protective of any woman he's ever met. Last night, after our hike to hell, we grabbed tacos and chatted. Over the two months we've been working out, Tim and I have become good friends and he's gotten to know and enjoy hearing about the trials and tribulations that make up my often boring romantic interludes. Tim's constant refrain regarding my personal life seems to be, "Why are you gonna go out with that guy? I think this is a bad idea. Why even waste your time?"
Uh, pal. It ain't like I gots anything better to do.
Tim, of course, was perfectly content to be a stone cold loner until he met and married Eve, who I think we'll all agree, is an extraordinarily rare human being. It finally occurred to me, pausing on a sidewalk to complete 100 squats and justify the occasional fella, Tim might have unrealistic expectations of what's "out there."
Reality check, folks. This is the kind of man I pull the second Melissa hits the ladies room and I'm sitting alone at a bar. Seriously. This...