Smell You Later

“You have great form.”

I hear this as I’m sweating profusely and practically breathless while pulling down a 25lb weight on a circuit.

“Umm, thanks” I reply.

Now normally, when I’m at the gym, I really don’t want to be bothered and I hope to blend into the walls. Not because I’m entirely anti-social, but because I look like a hot mess. Granted, if someone approaches you during this time, they would be pleasantly surprised at how incredible you clean up. I guess I’m just backwards.

This relatively goodlooking man tries to continue conversation. Promising, right? Then he asks for my phone number.

So at this stage, I was attempted to give him a fake number but we go to the same gym. That might make future encounters awkward. So I gave in and gave him the number. Wished him a good day and left.

A week goes by and nothing. Maybe he found another babe at the gym. No harm no foul.

Then I get the call. Not a text, but an old-fashion call. Let’s meet at Starbucks. Okay.

I order my Vanilla Chai Iced Tea Latte and sit down. He strolls in with a cloud stench that could clear out the entire place. You couldn’t smell coffee brewing. The sweet spices in my tea withered a painful death. I could barely breathe.

One of the employees propped open the door. Everyone could smell this. Was he sprayed by a skunk?

I looked down at my phone and pretended I got an emergency text. I didn’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings. Maybe picking up women at the gym is the only way he is approachable because we all smell there.

I bolted so I could breathe…sweet fresh air.

Rogue Rose

Author: Rogue-Rose

Single Mom. Dating Extraordinaire

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s