Pick-up or work out...

I was talking to a friend about working out and I mentioned I have a membership to the YMCA, I just need to start using it. He asked, “Isn't that just a pick-up joint?” I sure hope not... and I wonder why anyone would consider looking for a potential mate at the gym. Perhaps it has some evolutionarily advantage, if you see a guy bench press 300 pounds it is more likely he can kill a buffalo with his bare hands. I don't know, but really, would you want a potential partner to see you for the first time after working out? I sure wouldn't. Then again there are “those people,” you know who I am talking about. The people I would consider a Hollywood fabrication if I hadn't seen a few of them myself. Those people who look good doing anything. Those who can work out and break only enough of a sweat to make their skin glow, the hair stays in place and they look almost normal as they sip water after kick boxing class. Those people who can cry and look all glossy eyed as a single tear falls down their cheek, and an almost unnoticeable quivering of the chin. When they laughs it is the perfect giggle, a slight tip of head not showing too many teeth. Now me on the other hand... when I work out my ponytail inevitably slips out, my face turns bright red and my tank top rides up reveling belly fat. When I cry tears are streaming down my face, my nose gets all snotty, and my eyes get puffy and blood shot. When I laugh I throw my head back and laugh out loud, I don't even try to control the snorting anymore. I am no where near the perfection of “those people” but few of us are and it is the rest of us people that make the world an interesting place.