El Pollo Loco

I'm a crazy chicken...and oddly, hungry for some roasted bird.

Let me paint the picture. I was at the gym this morning, getting my chest and back on. Really not wanting to be there, but there did seem to be an abundance of hot guys there today. It's really easy for me to be distracted by dick. It's just the way I'm built. It's a known fact about men in my family (my brother and I) that the men in my family are horn dogs. I thought it was just because I'm a big cock hunting homo, but it's actually not just true of me. We have heavy libidos in my family. We're good partners and husbands, but at the same time, we've got fire in our pants.

Anyway, so I'm kind of doing my thing and I see this pasty skinned guy in a complete running outfit. He's cute. But he's in an orange and black total running outfit. Dorky. And I'm too distracted by my own intense workout...AND I'm at the gym. I have bedhead, eye boogers, a stanky t-shirt on and I'm listening to my fave gym jam, the sped up remix of "Like This" by Kelly Rowland. I'm also dancing around the gym inbetween sets. So any pretense of coolness is gone. I'm pretty dorky myself.

I finish up and I head to the showers. I'm washing the hair, I'm cleaning the nether regions, I'm shaving the balls (yes, I shave my balls at the gym sometimes. Is that gross?). I open my curtain to grab my towel and I see pasty white dork (not to be offensive, but this is all I know of him right now) in his towel getting out of the shower ahead of me. I nod. Interesting.

I take a quick steam and I head to my locker. Pasty White Dork is next to me and he smiles.

"Hi."

"Hello," he says back. Is that a trace of an accent? Okay, so now he's got my attention because he's got a nice body. I caught a glimpse when he was in his towel. Fit, but not obsessive. But not chunky. My friend Susan said I need to get off that train. She also thinks I need to date ethnic to just get my head out of the pasty white guy zone. My friend Alli from NYC would agree. And maybe my friend Nicole from college. Susan's husband also agrees, who I'm just getting to know. He also second the notion (from a way earlier post) that I need to add hotness to my list.

And in his casual work clothes (jeans, navy sweater, tortoise shell glasses), Pasty White Dork looked hot. And he smiled big when I said hi. And I always smile big, so I smiled back. Big. And now we're flirting. I need to get my clothes on without seeming shady. Not that I have a problem flashing my dick to people, I do it all the time. Seriously, I do it all the time. My mother's getting sick of it.

So I turn around and towel myself off in as subtle and non suggestive way as possible. Okay, a little suggestive. But I was actually trying not to be slutty about the whole thing. So I get my gym shorts back on, because I'm going to change at the office and I put on my Number:Lab long sleeved tee, which I think was actually a good choice. It's manly, sporty, and fashionable without being obvious about it. I'm putting my shoes on and he's still messing with his hair in the mirror. I hope he's waiting for me a bit...

So he leaves. I leave after tying my shoe and I wait at the elevator to the parking garage. He comes from grabbing a drink of water and he decides to wait with me at the elevator..."why not?" I make some remark about how it's totally lazy, but it's convenient. I think he thinks that's funny. We get in. I ask him if he had a good workout. I'm not being original at all. He says that he did and that he's a big hungover from his first Super Bowl party. And at this point, I'm definitely hearing an accent. British. Hot. Okay, so now I'm interested. The doors open to the parking garage and I make a stupid comment about how workouts are great for hangovers. Then I say good bye.

I ran out of material! I didn't want to be obvious. So here I am, the crazy chicken, blogging about it. Hey, if we're supposed to meet up again, then fate will step in. And if fate needs a hint, I'll be at the gym at the same time every morning this week. Maybe wearing one of my own matchy workout outfits.

And to my friend Susan: this guy is hot. I know he said he had a hangover and that he's white and pasty. But I saw him at the gym. And you're right, these are the kinds of guys I should be dating.