Thursday, July 2, 2009

On Crushing on Personal Trainers

Remember three months ago when I started at the gym, and I worked out with Doug, who was all muscles and dimples and was like "Jake Jake Jake c'mon c'mon c'mon UGGGGGHHHH" but then he left after I signed my life away for a year of personal training? Lately I have been working out with Douche Trainer, who is younger than me and calls me Cagefighter and I have grown to like him as a person but I still don't think I'm attracted to him, unless we were ever in a college bar in Dinkytown.

Anyway, I worked out with a DIFFERENT trainer today, named Southie. Southie has blonde hair and a very nice smile and is also a certified nutritonist. Even though I was not a fan of the exercises Southie would make me do, I was getting the trainer to laugh at my jokes.

"You're so funny," Southie says. When I mention that 3 P.M. is early, Southie asks if I drink a lot.

While we are in the aerobics gym, Douche Trainer walks in with his current client, a fortysomething housewife-type! "Keep it goin', Cagefighter," Douche Trainer says.
"Shut UP," I say, because I don't think I like him which means I do, but I am not in love with him the way I am now in love with SOUTHIE.
"Jake's my new favorite client," Southie laughs, and Southie has a really tight body.
"Thanks for laughing me so much," Southie says when I leave the gym.

I suppose I should stop delaying the point, which is that SOUTHIE IS A GIRL. I'm confused.

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