so, tonight was interesting for me at the gym. thanks to our tough economic state (believe it or not, I am not going to directly relate this to Obama, though I'm happy to blame him for what happened tonight), i'm sharing my 77 (hereinafter double 7) inches of pure sex with another girl. now, don't get me wrong. i've yet to get down and dirty with the trainer anywhere other than in my head, so this is not a competition. it's just more a...well, let me just explain (and we are talking so much more than the awkward comments I find myself making repeatedly, which deserve their own distant future post).
Double 7 makes us warm up before our workout and we all know I don't mind getting loose and limber for some physical activity. Tonight, my co-trainee tells me she knows she is going to burn up in her shirt. Her shirt, mind you, was a sweater. a thick, long underwear sweater. Even an eskimo would sweat in this sweater. So of COURSE she was going to get hot. I mean, who works out in a sweater? A smart girl, that's who. A sneaky b, if you will. While warming up her sweater, we have the following convo:
Sneaky B Sweater (her): so, what did you do this weekend?
Calm, Cool and Collected (me): co-hosted a baby shower in Charlotte. what about you?
Sneaky B Sweater: oh my gosh! I have to go to a wedding in Charlotte later this month!
Calm, Cool and Collected: oh fun! where is it going to be?
Sneaky B Sweater: who knows. but it's going to be a southern shit show.
Calm, Cool and Collected and proudly Southern: and just what is a southern shit show?
Sneaky B Sweater: oh you know. just a shit show.
soooo, since that clearly makes sense, we'll get to our workout. Double 7 was really kicking our arses tonight and the sweat factor was turned up. which I suspect is exactly what sweater had intended. After having him wrap her hands just so to box (she just didn't know how to do it! honest!), we got our groove on. Only, while I'm over there lying in a heap on the floor, moaning in pain, she whips out a baseball hat. precisely one red sox hat. not gonna lie, she looked cute in her ball cap. but, i don't know where it came from. it's not like her spandex pants had a pocket to hold her ball cap in. But there it was, big as day atop her head. how ironic that double 7 used to play for the red sox franchise! i mean, let's be honest here. if i were this sneaky, i would have at LEAST worn a yankees jersey and hat to get a rise out of him. however, i'm clearly not as smart or as sneaky (or as professional) as this chick because she knew she didn't need to wear a jersey. she just wore a sweater so she could remove it during our workout. She was at least considerate enough to ask if people wore just sports bras at this gym. i just looked at her, then looked around, and after spotting exactly no one in just a sports bra, told her i didn't know before falling again in a sweaty mess on the floor. I felt like I was Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego in the fiery furnace I was so hot. and then there was this sneaky b, in her Red Sox hot and sports bra, not sweating and not being obvious at all. where had I gone wrong?
Clearly my thong leotard and leg warmers just aren't going to cut it anymore. Good thing I've got Carmen Electra's strip tease workout videos on my side. Sweaty girls at the gym are out. Stripper girls in sweaters are in. If it weren't for Carmen, I might not know how to sexily remove my jacket. Once I figure out how to turn this sexy move into a sweater removal, you can bet I'm breaking this out at the gym. heck, i might even do a somersault at the same time. yeah. that's what i'll do. they'll both be squatting for me in no time.
side note about my graphic for the night. i googled "fiery furnace red sox" and this image came up. i found it appropriate.