Of late, staying home after a long week of intense meetings and extended projects is absolutely wonderful. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with my girlfriend’s, because I absolutely do but at times, when we go out to a nice lounge, I don’t want to watch any of my girlfriend’s lose her sense of self when an “Alpha male” walks through the door. My mood takes a turn for the uncomfortable if there is any outlandish behavior being exhibited by one of the ladies. There is nothing that puts me off quicker than seeing one of the chica’s trolling for men. If you’re going man fishing, warn me so I can gracefully opt-out and stay home. I’m well aware that for some women it is less stressful to get your game on when your friends are around but to be honest, I feel that meeting someone should be more organic such as at a dinner or cocktail party or perhaps some sort of event where you’ve been invited. Call me crazy but peddling your goodies and hoo haws for the lounge lizards to assess is demoralizing. Women are powerful and exquisite creatures who have no need to be on display. Yet we forget our heads when a happy meal crosses our line of vision and all we can think about is if that tall drink of water has any refills. *Sigh*
Now, when I was single, I wasn’t opposed to the innocuous small talk from “Joe Smoothie“, while cruising the single circuit but I always felt a certain unease when I was being sized up by the opposite species as though they were the butcher and I were the lamb going up for slaughter. Ick! New York City is known for being an open buffet for the single set with an all you can eat menu (as far as dating goes and the plethora of choices) but what I’ve tried to impress upon a few of my gal pals is that if a man from the city has options, why would he settle for just one woman? City living can be a bit taxing if you are trying to rope a husband. I don’t want to generalize, and this is only MY opinion, but most men in the city want to play and be available for open call night. I know that there is a primal dance we must do when we first meet someone but of late, it just all seems too contrived and the joy of the unexpected is taken out of the equation.
All I am saying is that I would love to have some girlfriend time without some lounge lizard thinking he is going to get lucky that night with some hoo hoo action. Not with these ladies you’re not. So beat it. Scram. Move along lounge lizard. These seats are taken and no, we don’t care if you think you “know us from somewhere.” Puleeease.
There is absolutely nothing that will have me running for the gym faster than an ugly fight to the death with my SPANX. The stupid contraption would not hold me in nicely and the unsightly bulge had me running away from the full length mirror in horror. Mind you, to the average onlooker, I may look like your average size 8 but if there is some wiggle around my middle, that means I have a pooch problem. So, that being said, it’s time to find a gym.
Now, working out is not a pleasurable experience for me, which I’m sure will resonate with many women, but as soon as I felt that dreaded jiggle when I walked….well let’s just say I kissed Ben & Jerry’s good-bye and I now put as much distance between me and the frozen food aisle as possible when at the supermarket.
Sigh. I so will miss the days when I was able to eat whatever my little heart desired and not gain a smidge of weight. Gone are the days that I didn’t have to think about the consequences of eating this or that. Sadly, those lovely days are over. No more Jerry Garcia or Phish food while watching the Lifetime Movie Channel, no more Jelly Belly’s during Dateline, no more late night pepperoni pizza during CSI Miami and definitely no more Ho Hos during The Real Housewives of New York City marathons. It was wonderful while it lasted but then Father Time decided to remind me that I was not going to be a spring chicken forever and to prove his nasty point, I noticed that my skin no longer snaps back as quickly as it used to and the “girls” no longer feel like they need to stand up straight. Yes, the quicker I find an exercise boot camp, the better.
The first gym I visited was for women only. One look around told me everything I wanted to know. As soon as I walked through those doors I noticed that every woman looked as though they had lost the battle against Sara Lee (read: pound cake and yummy goodness) and perhaps their wrinkle cream had been recalled. Seriously, I’m all for aging gracefully but sometimes Mother Nature needs a little assistance. So the Geritol gym was crossed off my list. I had no desire to be constantly reminded of the “senior years” which is looming eerily ahead of me. My grandmother is an elegant and beautiful woman and she would rather fade away than to look like some of these poor, wretched souls. They unfortunately looked as if they had given up the good fight and were only going through the motions. I am so not going down that road.
After a long, exhausting day of searching for a gym, the fourth location I visited was the charm. Great facility and amenities, the staff was eager and ready to push me to my fitness best and Mr. Muscle Guy behind the juice bar looked as though he were ready to whip me up a healthy smoothie quicker than I can say fatty patty.
Now don’t get too excited. I am not saying that I am ready to embrace the health craze movement but perhaps my body will thank me later (and I mean way later) by giving me a backside that I can bounce a quarter off of. Heh!