open letter to the girl at my gym in the pink cap with rhinestones

Hi there!

I just wanted to say, I'm both impressed AND entertained by your ability to perform suggestive dance hall moves while on the elliptical. I'm also a little amazed by how you swivel your hips seductively and gaze at yourself alluringly while you work your biceps with the 5 lb barbells, and a little amused by the way you pretend you're the only one in the room but keep glancing around to see who's looking at you.

Well I confess. I, for one, can't keep my eyes off you -- you're fascinating. I'm always wondering what fancy little move you'll pull on your apparently unsuspecting reflection. You're a hundred times more interesting than looking at my own sweaty little face in the mirror, red with exertion, hair plastered to my brow. Being curious about what you'll do next also takes my mind off the weightier subjects I'd otherwise ponder, like "who in the gym office keeps playing that Offspring CD?" or "am I going to be eating a can of tuna over the sink for dinner again?"

So it's clear that you've perfected that coy, dewy-eyed, come-hither expression, that come-on-big-boy, show-me-the-kind-of-man-you-are look -- in addition to a whole range of other highly emotive facial contortions suitable for (I am guessing) a range of late-night applications.* And while you're comedically, even absurdly theatrical, you're really very pretty and have a nice bum. But I have news for you.

This gym is full of fags. Hot, sweet, man-loving fags. They aren't interested in you, or me, and never will be. They want that dude over there with the beautiful calves who is doing perfectly controlled chin-ups again, now at chin-up number 15, rep #3. (Wow!)

Just thought you should know. It's actually why I love this gym, virtually no straight male prowlers to crowd you or hit on you, and it's got a down-to-earth low-key kind of feel. Plus the gays here are generally very generous with the kindly tips on how to work your obliques or do a more effective curl. Maybe you want to try the GoodLife Gym down the block, which is apparently a total meat market and rhinestone caps (on women, anyway,) are more de rigeur? Or if you're committed to this place, consider bartering your elaborate hip choreography for workout tips from one of the nicer 'mos. You might be able to work out a nice skills swap.

Love,
Roo

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* even though you are apparently compelled to keep practicing them on yourself in the mirror