Lord, don’t do that to me again…….

Unfortunately.. or mebbe fortunately, ‘pendin’ on how one looks at it.. the joint where I workout at, I must drive by it each and every evening enroute to home.

Last night.. age 56 muscles, coupled with “eh, mebbe skip it, go have a cold one” had me very tempted to get in the right lane insteada the left lane.

I didn’t. And boy am I glad/mad I didn’t. Huh?

Held the front door open for a groupa snotnoses… pleasantly received “thank you’s” and even a “thank you sir” from ‘em… then proceeded downstairs to the men’s lockerroom to throw my shorts and t-shirt on, the ones that were last washed Sunday I think. (Makes for a great/larger workout area in the crowded weight room portion of this Community Center.).

Last night though, was cardio night. Into the room I strolled, and damnit-darnit, all the ellipticals were taken. Ellipticals are for us old people. They ain’t so bad on the joints, they ain’t so hard to do, you can adjust the ‘pressure’ and make people think you’re really working hard… Darn, taken.

So I eyeballed me a fancy sitting down bike, right next to the stair-steppers (no way Jose on the stair-steppers… that’s for 20/30-somethings… mebbe even 40/50-something Johnson Countians who ain’t hadta work an honest day in their life.)

So I sat. Perty neat. “For quick start, begin pedaling.” Did. Different levels of ‘pressure.’ Eyeballed the 30-something nexto me – “11”. K. I’ll try 7. Nope, that won’t work. 5. then 3, finally 2. Yep, Goldilocks right.

Five happily minutes into it, in walk two of the most gorgeous women I think I’ve ever seen. Right infronta me was an open treadmill. Lord, don’t slap me… I was thinkin’ “Oh please, PLEASE take THAT one!”… They walked by.

Oh shit. They went to the stair-steppers. If you’ve ever wondered by here before, then no doubt you are aware I’m very definitely a “derriere-man”.
Lord, don’t do this to me.

He did. If I woulda extended my arm straight out, then swung it to the right, I honestly coulda smacked the one closest to me, that’s what my Lord tempted me with.

Worse, the one with the shortest, tightest of shorts – was just ahead to my right. Even worse, when she pedaled, she kinda bent over a bit – and I’ll be damned if that thing wasn’t smack dab almost in my face. Lord, don’t do this to me.

Now whatshername (the one who won’t acknowledge there’s a grandbaby in the oven) usedta get pissed when construction workers would whistle at her. My theory, I laid upon her, was “the time to get upset is when you DON’T hear those whistles any longer.”

I wasn’t gonna whistle, but I was a wee bit worried about my blood pressure.
In my most un-creepy-like behavior, I stiff-necked it straight ahead for the following 25 minutes. Tempted, Lord, don’t do that to me. Tempted I was to peek… (Ok, once.. maybe one baby peek… think she saw me.. I can’t help it Lord, I’m a male, we’re ALL creeps.).. For the most part, I behaved.

Thank you Lord for the beautiful people. Next time though, put ‘em across the room, not flaunted all right there up in my face. Lord, don’t do that again please.

Sorry.. kinda.. to blog about this… Butt I had to… Love, Victurd