My Ass has become Jiggly

I hate the gym. Don't laugh. I'm serious.
I have two friends in my life who proclaim they love to workout. They are alien to me. Adam, Christine…I'm talking to you.
Recently I rejoined a gym. (Gasp… my friends….I know…it's scary and you shouldn't talk to me until this phase peters out in about six months) I must admit, once I left my job as a celebrity assistant, I sort of got into the "wake up and answer emails and watch 4 hours of The Today Show lifestyle….why go to the gym? My workout became a leisurely bike ride through my neighborhood, one in which I would not break into a sweat. I looked at it as living an active lifestyle. Right?
Finally my well tanned, unemployed bod needed to be less jiggly. So I headed to the local gym to sign up for a new membership.
Once inside the massive chain establishment closest to my house(ahem, the word 24 hour in the name should suggest they are actually open for 24 hours just like 7-11 is open at seven and closes at eleven and yet….they are open for 24 hours selling me Hostess Cupcakes….but I digress).
So "Joe" the service manager welcomes me to the fitness center. "How much weight do you want to lose?" he asks sizing me up. Really Joe must you ask such inane questions? If you want people to sign up for your gym, don't ask them if they want to lose weight. Of course they are there to lose weight…do you need to point it out to them asshole.
So I tell him, "I don't want to lose weight. I just want to tone." Yeah, go to hell Joe. You and your judgmental attitude.
But then he asks me, "So what do you do?" Hello. I'm here at 11am on a weekday…shouldn't that signal that I'm unemployed?
"I'm a writer" I respond.
"Oh, how's that working for you?"
Really Joe? You going there? "Extremely successful." Yeah. So happy I left my job and writing is so free and exciting. Look asshole…just give me my damn membership and let's be done with the small talk and your….wait a minute, Joe's not wearing a ring….ooooh wait a minute. Joe's kinda cute. Oh wait, reality check, Joe works at 24 chain…wearing gasp, a uniform. "Yeah, just finishing my second book for my publisher. Life is so good and I love my flexibility."
So finally Joe gets an important call (probably from some girl he's trying to impress…in his khakis and blue 24 hour t-shirt no less) and I'm on my way to workout without a tour of the gym…I'm on my own. Without Joe even flirting with me or offering me any extra incentives or discounts. I instantly hate Joe.
At 11am…well you got your moms trying to look hot for their husbands so they don't leave them, your students, your actors (of course) and well…random unemployed people looking for an endorphin high because well, it's all they got right now. And beautiful people get jobs, right? I'm not sure where I fit in this mix. But the important part is…I'm here.
The only thing I like about going to the gym is I get to read. While most people listen to music or watch TV while at the gym, I actually can read and it's really the only place I like to read other than at the beach. And while my tan is just fine mid-summer, I've got about 5 books downloaded on my kindle I need to finish.
What does this have to do with dating you might ask? Well…let it ring true. Single people go to the gym. While it's not a successful spot for me (I need more simulation than "your arms are really getting some definition" talk…I do like to look at the hard bodies around me at the gym if for no other reason than sensory overload.) So yes…I'm on the prowl while working out…so kill me. (But if I start dating a guy on steroids, you all can kill me…)
The gym is a place for my mind to work into overdrive. I dream of articles to write, emails to send, jobs to seek, and chapters to write. But I also know I need to go, otherwise, my ass will expand and I won't fit into any of the really cute fall clothing I dream of purchasing.
But don't get me wrong…even through endorphin highs, fabulous books to read, and mega eye candy…I still hate working out. And if you like working out…well, we aren't really friends.
HC
Complaints welcome.