So then…my friend Lindsey follows me upstairs to my bedroom.
(Oh, git yer mind out da gutter! It ain’t THAT kinda story!)
I want to show her the 8 giant wine glasses in my closet in case she’d like to use them for centerpieces for a party she’s planning.
(OF COURSE I use these to drink my wine. All 8 glasses. Simultaneously.)
So as she follows me upstairs into my bedroom, over to the alcove closet, she says to me: “Hey, have you been working out?”
(Oh! Boom-chicka-wow-wow! Maybe this IS that kind of story!)
Has she been staring at my ass this whole time – and now she’s trying that classic pick-up line about working out?
I don’t happen to swing that way, but of course, I’m terribly flattered.
I blush, bat my eye lashes, smile, and purr: “Why no – (toss hair) – but why do you ask?”
She says, “Cuz of that” — and points to my treadmill.
She laughs and says, “I figured it must be pretty hard to work out on your treadmill, what with all that stuff on it.”
Well! How dare she?
How does she know that I’m not just some incredibly talented gymnast-slash-piano-player who likes to belt out my own tunes while I’m treadmilling? Huh? It’s possible!
Instead of scoffing, she should be admiring my dexterity!
But of course she’s right. I haven’t used that treadmill in forever – and I guess at some point, it seemed to make good sense to store those things there for the “time being.”
And of course she’s happily married and has no intention of hitting on me – although that would have made a very interesting story – especially if we drank wine from those giant glasses and serenaded each other on my Karaoke-Piano-Treadmill (patent-pending).
So now, I MUST ask you:
What’s on YOUR treadmill?
— Darcy Perdu
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(Fess up – what’s on your treadmill right now? I’d love to see that I’m not the only one storing something odd on my “exercise” equipment!)