The tales of two pernicious pugs and their doormat.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Ogley-Eyes

I went to the gym this week. Like the week before. And the week before. I've discovered, much to my delight, that the upstairs portion of the gym is almost always empty, and I can run from machine to machine in manic delight at the sheer available-ness of it all. So this week I was upstairs, pouring salty beads of sweat, and doing my best guppy fish impression while drinking from my water bottle.

And in comes someone to ruin my lovely I'm-all-by-myself Zen mode. The fella plops down on the floor and starts doing those crazy pushups you perform with 2 fingers or something. I'd never try that - they'd snap off in protest. So I'm chillin', doing my StairMaster, glancing at the clock every 2 seconds to see if I've progressed beyond my current 3 minutes of a rather lame-ass sissy workout.

And reading, of course. Every so often, I raid the Bargain section of the local Borders or Barnes and Nobles, looking for something that looks completely unintelligent and has someone being killed or stabbed or stalked or farted on. Hey, I can only concentrate so much while bicycling vigorously and swatting my tendrils of nosy hair back in place. I need brain-dead material to entertain me. Otherwise I will grow to hate the gym, and I will balloon up into an ungainly and rather unattractive 300 pounds.

So I'm reading, and stepping, and swatting hair, and drinking water. And sneaking little glances at my workout "buddy", rather jealous that he's lifting 100 pound weights in each hand like they're sticks of butter. And then I notice something that boggles my mind to this minute: my buddy is glancing at me, smiling that "you're kinda cute, do you think I'm cute too" smile, and winking every so often. I'm absolutely flabbergasted.

Now, perhaps I should explain. I understand, and have been told by some people, that I'm somewhat attractive. And this usually happens when I'm wearing the most expensive dress I own, the tallest shoes in my closet, and a bit of makeup. I've looked at myself in the morning after getting out of bed, and let me tell you, the sight is not pretty. Now, I'm one of those people that will get dressed up for everything - I'll wear a dress to go shopping for groceries. But the one thing I absolutely refuse to dress up for is the gym. In fact, I have subconsciously made it my utmost priority to look my absolute worst when I go the gym. Probably because my gym clothes look like they were made in the 70s, and I'm sweating like a pig.

So, back to the story, I'm puzzled that this fella is making ogley-eyes at me. Me, the girl in the old sweatpants and faded ugly t-shirt. The girl who's hair is pinned up, but looks strikingly similar to a volcano that's about to erupt. The girl who's face is as red as a tomato - no, make that an eggplant. Yes, I was purple from exhaustion. The man must be going delusional from all those 2-finger pushups. Or those He-Man weights. Or maybe he's crazy. Scenes from Psycho and the music from Jaws pop into my head and I grab my little towel, draping it over my shoulder like a mini-shield, and make a dash for the stairs. Once safely in my car, I realized perhaps he just has a fetish for eggplants in ugly sweats. That's probably it.

And since I wrote nothing about the pug in this entry, I shall let you all know: he's safe, he's snoring, and he's still the spawn of Satan.

6 comments:

Tam said...

I wish that I would muster the energy to get to a gym.

I just erased a slew of words in my comment because I realized I was blogging in the comments section of your blog...and there I go again....sigh.

So....was he cute and will you be watching out for him in the future? Hehe.

Pug Mom said...

Ha ha ha.... well, I guess he was sorta attractive. But I've been quite in love with somebody else for the past two years, so even if Johnny Depp walked up to me and asked if he could ravish me, I'd have to say no. :)

Tarina said...

Guys are weird aren't they? I mean, not that getting oogled is a bad thing, it's just their headspace seems like such a strange place to be.

Pug Mom said...

Yes, guys are very very strange. I have yet to meet one that doesn't seem a little odd in the head to me. But that's because women are perfect. :)

Cinnkitty said...

First off PG: If you were PURPLE then you were forgetting to breathe! That's a very important part of aerobic exercise you know (vs. anarobic where are aren't supposed to breathe) and...well.. breathing is kind of important just for your continued existence on this planet. :)

Red? Red is acceptable. That just means you have elevated your heart rate, got the blood flowing and are well on your way to keeping those extra 300 pounds creeping up on you and jumping on your thighs faster than Sally Struthers on a UNICEF twinkie!

As for the guy - Hey, you don't give yourself enough credit girl. There you were, huffing and sweating to keep your butt from looking like you sat in a bowl of cottage cheese - that's an attractive quality to some guys. He was letting you know how much he appreciated your efforts. ;)

Plus, maybe he just liked purple. I have a male friend who likes purple *SO* much that he would probably hump a cactus if you dressed it up in a purple corset and garter. hee..hee..hee!

Pug Mom said...

Cinnkitty,

Well...all right, maybe I wasn't exactly purple. But my heart rate was dangerously between "good and healthy aerobic exercise" and "anaerobic". So, yep.
Oooh, and about your guy liking purple - you're not noticing the key words there: garters and corset. :) Most guys would hump a cactus (or perhaps a dandelion) to see girls in that. Tee hee hee....