In the movies women meet gorgeous men in all kinds of unlikely places. I’ve decided to put the theory to the test…
First, the gym.
I arrive excited and ready to swoon over countless men in shorts and vests showing off their rippling biceps.
I take to the warm-up area and scour the scene, within minutes I am happy to see several guys I would talk to, perhaps even go for a drink with. Problem is, how to proceed? Tough one.
I start by snagging a tread mill next to a suitable candidate, with the mirror opposite I hope to maybe make some eye contact. Keeping the setting low so as not to get too rank and sweaty, I start to jog.
Attempting eye contact leads to almost falling off the darn machine. Not good. Hotty number 1 glances at me clearly disgusted at my ineptitude.
Time for plan B. Over in the weights section I am happy to just sit and watch really, but that would no doubt end up in my being removed from the premises, so I mess around on some of the more female-friendly machines and strike up a few conversations asking how the different contraptions work and so on..
Nothing is really sparking and I am starting to regret the investment in cute work-out clothes (no, I am one of those girls that matches my trainers to my t-shirt, but my gym clothes hadn’t been updated since PE lessons so this was necessary), when all of a sudden a Madonna music video comes on the TV and every guy in there turns to look. Initially I am confused, is it the ‘age ain’t nothing but a number’ factor? (See last week’s entry) Is Madonna still hot?!
Then I twig. Gym is in Chelsea… Better luck next time, DB.