Lifestyles of the poor and nameless

I usually don't talk to people at the gym. I go in with my headphones on and my water bottle at my lips *Don't talk to me 'cause I'm focused!* But because I live in a relatively small town, it's hard to maintain any kind of anonymity at popular places like the gym. If you have any kind of routine, you're going to run into the same people repeatedly....it's hard to ignore people in such familiar situations.

I've seen one guy there a couple times. He says hi, I say hi and get back to my business of laboring and sweating on the treadmill. Last week, he approached me and decided to strike up a conversation. We talked for a little bit and eventually, he asked me out and took my phone #. If I'd been in NYC, I don't think I would have gone for it, but hey...this is Bristol, PA. Anything goes. I gave him the # and watched him drive away. Then I realized that I hadn't taken his #. Oh well.

He called the following day to say "hello, how's your day going?" etc. I thought that was cool, but I didn't really have time to talk and he said he was getting off work so he'd call back another time. He called the next day, and somehow or another we got to the issue of age.

He said that he thought I was no more than 21. Hmmm....I guess it's good that I still look young at 25. Maybe. But heck, I never want to be appealing to a 16 year old! Because that's what he was, ladies and gentlemen...a tender young buck of 16 years old.

You're probably wondering how this could have happened. I'm still wondering myself. I have never met a 16 year old with a body like that. He honestly could have been 21 or 31...he didn't have an age to him. Then there were the circumstantial factors: I forgot that in PA you can get a driver's license at 16; not true in NYC. What the heck are they feeding these kids?!

From the old man to the underaged.....geez.