When you go to the gym there are things I expect to see and hear and things that I’d rather not have even imagine.
For example, I know when guys work out there is some kind of odd bonding thing going on and you spot each other. You talk trash, talk about who or what you did the night before, and you talk sports and stuff. You grunt when you lift weights and you like to go to the water fountain a lot. I notice, but I don’t “notice”. I’m not there checking you out or anything. Frankly, I like looking at my trainer, because we kid around and that is about it. I do my thing, sweat like a mutha, and hope for good results.
The one thing I don’t want to see or even have the mental image of is what happens when you work out in really short running shorts. Why? Well, I just don’t want to see that much of you.
Tonight I was glad I was walking out of the gym as you were walking in, Mr. I-shave-my-legs-and wear-the-teeniest-running-shorts-I-can-find-guy. I don’t need to imagine what the seats and benches will be like, because the goodie bag inside your shorts isn’t completely covered by the shorts. I don’t want to know what might happen if you stretch or bend over. The woman you were with must have been kind of thinking the same. You see, running shorts are for running…outdoors. They are not for the gym and for working out.
All I can say is….ewwwwwwwww grossssssssssssss!
I experienced that awkward moment once. A friend of mine was fixing my car stereo and he was sprawled out on the floor of my car, legs hanging out of my door. However, he had a habit of wearing short shorts (as that is what guys wore back in ’80s). He also had a habit of going commando. So, dude at the gym, tonight…thank you for reminding me of the time that my friend unwittingly unveiled his goodies in front of me. I’m only glad you were walking in the door and I didn’t have to witness you work out.