This morning, I dragged my ass to spin class – obviously looking stunning with no make-up and a sweaty back. I was just thinking that it was the perfect time to run into a former one-night stand, when it happened.
If you recall from my original post, sexytime with this gentleman was not the best. Actually, it’s hard for me to truly evaluate since my “sample” only lasted about two minutes. I am still baffled at how he was taking an advanced spin class, but had such little endurance where it mattered.
I sat in the back of the room and looked at his screen so that I could judge him when he wasn’t going as fast as the instructor told us to. Mostly because I’m bitter that he never gave me my earrings back. It’s not like he’s wearing them or anything.
Suddenly, everything the instructor said took on a sexual meaning. She walked around the room monitoring our resistance and cadence (RPM), as only the most pushy and annoying of instructors do.
“Watch that cadence!” she said as she checked his screen. “Get it up!”
My thoughts exactly.
As class ended, I sought refuge in the locker room. I hope this isn’t going to become a daily occurrence, because that could be problematic. Boys should really come with a disclaimer on which gym they work out at. Sigh.