Brief Encounter

“Do you know that chap over there?” I ask my trainer Katerina.
She follows my gaze over to the lat pull-down machine. The chap is wearing a loose white t-shirt and his tanned, sculpted arms look just great. He’s got lots of dirty blond shaggy hair and green eyes.
“Not really,” she says. “He’s here a lot. Keeps himself to himself. Doesn’t really talk to anyone.”
He saunters over to the wall to stretch. His grey tracksuit bottoms are loose and he definitely hasn’t made an effort with his gym outfit, so he scores even more points for that.
“He’d talk to me. In fact, I can go out with him,” I say. “That tattoo on his arm is in Hebrew so he’s probably Israeli.”
“Get up on that box and do lunges, one leg at a time,” Katerina says. Looking round, I see that the chap has vanished. Climbing up on the box for a better vantage point, he’s nowhere to be seen.
“The boy has gone,” I say. “He’s just disappeared.”
“He’ll be back,” Katerina says. “Let’s get going with those lunges, left leg first.”
Ten lunges later, I switch legs. There’s seldom anyone attractive at the gym, I think.
“Should’ve talked to him,” I say. “Even though I’m not looking my best.”
Katerina laughs. I’m wearing my short, black elderly gym shorts; an orange top; purple trainers; glasses and my hair in its top-ponytail-bottom-ponytail style. Still, it’s a missed opportunity. Let’s hope he turns up again…

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