Another Man's Treasure

Working at a gym has some definite advantages. You get to be around like minded people, you're educating everybody who's willing to listen to your random fitness and nutrition tirades, you get to work out for free, and you get to meet some of the weirdest people to ever walk the planet, which always makes for a good time.


My favorite person that has ever waltzed into my life was, oh, let's call him, Rico Suave, you know, to protect his identity or something...Anyway, Rico Suave came into the gym and signed up while I was working. He was a tall man. A tan man. He had a gentle way about him. And then he opened his mouth. He has the composure of George Castanza and the suaveness of David Schwimmer. I was pretty positive he was hammered. He asked me about what the black book by the desk was and I explained it's to sign up for a free orientation where he will be whisked away on a tour of the gym and a free fitness assessment, and by "assessment" we mean "we'll take some measurements." He was uncomfortable about having a dude measure him, so, he signed up for at 10 am for me the very next day. Thank you for choosing me. As he was leaving and I handed him his key card he said "Thanks, babe." I stopped for a second and it hit me he called me "babe." Well, all I did was sign you up at a gym, tiger. Calm down.


The very next day, promptly at 10:00, Rico Suave showed up. It was probably the first time he'd ever shown up for anything on time besides Happy Hour at a bar where everybody is dressed like hooker pirates. He sat down and we began his orientation. He's answering questions as manly as he can by bragging about how much he can bench and all I'm thinking about is "I wonder what happened to Pauly Shore. I'm glad he's not making movies anymore, but, what is he doing now?" Then we get to the part where I have to take measurements. I had been dreading this all morning. It was probably the first time a girl had ever touched him besides one of the hooker pirate waitresses slapping him. So, I proceeded with taking an arm measurement. No weird comment. Hmmm, I thought, maybe this isn't going to be weird. Chest measurement. Nothing. Waist. Still nothing. Hip. Silence. Thigh. Of course...I'm bending down and there he is....at half mast....in my face. He was saying something about how he hates something and I muttered "Kind of like unwanted boners in your face" under my breath. He heard me muttering and I quickly replied with "What?" acting like I hadn't said anything and I was merely talking to myself. After I showed him around the gym I hoped I'd never see him again. I was wrong. Things were about to get worse.

The next day, he comes back to work out. Awesome. He leaves me alone all morning and he was about to leave and he approached me. I was sitting at the desk, folding towels and minding my own business when he, as suave as he could, sauntered over and gave me a smoldering look and said "Hey, I heard you just got divorced. You know what they say, one man's trash...." All I could get out of my mouth was "Um...What?" Why leave it there? Why not finish the statement? Did he just call me trash? It was one of the very few times in my life that I was completely speechless and everybody within ear shot was also speechless. He sensed this and awkwardly left. It took me a few moments to realize what the hell just happened. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or sit in the shower in the fetal position. Either way, I haven't seen Rico Suave since. I'm afraid I broke the poor bastard's heart. C'est la vie.