Excuse Me While I Go Cry

I’m normally a Rules girl…and when I say Rules I mean The Rules. It’s just how I was raised.

But I normally wouldn’t have thought I’d have gotten divorced. Or lived in a one bedroom apartment. Or traded my Audi in for a Jetta. Life isn’t what I expected, and I’m not where I thought I’d be.

So after months of small talk at the gym I decided, today, that this is it. I’m asking the guy out for coffee. I mean, why not? Other than that girls aren’t supposed to ask guys out…

I told myself all the regular excuses of why he hasn’t asked me out. I have RBF, I’m intimidating, and I work out at the gym like a boss.

I own this in pink…

So let’s just do this.

He’s here.

I can do this, I tell myself. I have such bad anxiety I don’t think I can do this. What do I say? What do I do?

I’m doing squats…like a boss…and I think I just can’t do it.

Then I look in the mirror and say stop wondering. I can’t come to the gym one more day wondering what the deal with this guy is. The staring, the small talk, touching my arm and asking me questions. Are you married? Are you gay? Are you just a weirdo that likes to talk to people? I can’t wonder anymore.

So I make like I’m going to get a towel…then I look over and say “I haven’t seen you for a while…”

More small talk. Should I walk away? No. NO! Small talk continues and I can tell I need to either say something RIGHT NOW or walk away defeated.

Here goes.

“So let me know if you ever want to go for coffee sometime…”

He looks at me. His arms are up holding onto the pull-up bar and I can see a hint of his tummy. His eyes are twinkling. I take a deep breath. And he says.

“Thank you.”

Oh.

My.

F’ing.

God.

Can I go die now? I try to smile but I imagine roundhouse kicking him between those sparkling eyes.

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I walk away with some shred of dignity and pick up my 10-pound weights back at my post.

Wtf? I’m shaking. I’m embarrassed. I’m wondering if I’m ugly.

I want to pick up my phone and start texting everyone I know that obvs my gym boyfriend is officially gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Thankfully he eventually gets his coat and leaves. He smiles and says good-bye. I imagine another roundhouse kick; this time to the groin.

Peace out, Mo Fo!

But it hits me. I just asked a guy out at the gym and he said thank you?

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The tears are welling up in my eyes and I know I have to get out of here. I won’t dare cry in the gym. Even crying in my car I feel like a pathetic loser.

This is why I follow The Rules I tell myself. This is why I don’t fraternize with gym people. Or Sox fans. He was even wearing a Sox shirt. So obviously not my type.

I drive home; tears and snot pouring down my face. I’ve lost every shred of dignity I have left. I call my ex-husband. And now I’ve lost every shred of dignity.

And I cry. And cry. And cry.