Yesterday morning, I dragged myself to the gym around 7 O’WayTooEarly A. M. I got to the front desk, scanned my card and noticed a guy hanging around behind the desk.
Young. Buff. Good looking. A wee bit too good looking…and I start to panic, a big red warning blinking in my head: PERSONAL TRAINER ON THE PROWL FOR NEW, PAYING CLIENTS! I thought frantically, Please don’t notice me.
He noticed me. His dark brown eyes lit up and he said, “Morning! So you’re really fit!”
I actually turned around, because I thought he must have noticed someone BEHIND me. But there was no one there. The man was actually saying that to me. And he apparently thought I’d believe he was sincere. I muttered something about not being fit and hurried away. I went upstairs to the cardio area, climb up on the *grumble grumble* stair stepper and fiddled with my iPod, looking for some music that will make this torture bearable.
I look up to see the toned, too perky trainer had followed me up the stairs. “I can’t believe you said your not fit!” He calls out. This then quickly turned into a pitch to train me because I have a “great frame.”
Yeah, my three kids, middle aged, chocolate-and-wine drenched, overweight, great frame. Sure. I believe you.
What I should have done was told him this true story: A while back, Wizard offered to help me tone up a few places and told me to do 8 million or so reps on this leg press thing. I did what he told me ONCE. Then I got off the machine, and once I could feel my legs again, I walked over to him and said, “Just so you know, I hate you.”
I narrowed my eyes and said, “I know ways to end your life, Wizard.”
Still laughing, he answered, “If I’m dead who will put gas in your car, Witch?”
Damn. I had to let him live.
That’s what I should have told the trainer, but instead I said I was under a doctor’s care and didn’t have medical clearance for a personal trainer. Boring but effective!
What would you have said?