i’ve developed a crush on a boy who works in my building. for months i’ve been staring at him from across the lunchroom. i’d strategically sit on the side of the table that faced his with the hopes for eye contact or a soundless “hi.” when i would get up to fill my water, my co-workers would watch and tell me that he’d stare from across the room back. so, i decided to do something about it. (by i, i definitely mean my married co-worker who wants nothing more than for me to find a date so that we can finally do couples game night).
because it does in fact matter, imagine adrian grenier but taller and in more of a greek god kind of way except instead of togas, he wears sweaters (does he ever) and i’m pretty sure he’s from california, not the mediterranean. (dear god i hope he never reads this post).
now imagine your most embarrassing, awkward, uncouth romantic situation in middle school. it’s sort of been like that ever since. i got his number from some other guy unintentionally. he was just supposed to find out the scoop- is he single/straight/recovering/etc? the messenger came back with a sticky note including a first name and ten digits. i stupidly gave my number back. we texted for days before he even knew who i was. we went to happy hour once with all of my co-workers and all of his co-workers. no one talked to each other. everyone watched us. after one completely uncomfortable hour, i ditched out for a hot date with my masseuse instead (girls who want boyfriends would have cancelled their appointment, drank too much, and had him drive them home. girls who are oblivious to boyfriends would have chugged one IPA, told him “maybe next time” and arrived promptly to the best non-sexual 90 minutes of their lives. yes, i’m still single).
now normally, i’m pretty great at dating. by great, i definitely mean horrible. lunchroom boy is adorable and nice and i know he has a good job. these are all qualities that might actually make him a contender. so obviously instead of being cool, calm and collected, i am constantly one step away from tripping over a chair leg, spilling my plate all over his lap, standing back up, adjusting my suspenders, pushing up my glasses and saying “did i do that?“
maybe it’s the fact that this is all happening at work and every one of my co-workers and every one of his co-workers watch our every interaction. maybe it’s because i have no real moves and in order to keep up my semi-professional appearance, i’m forced to keep my skirts only moderately short. maybe it’s the fact that i know nothing about this guy other than how good his butt looks in those perfect-fitting slacks. maybe it’s the fact that i’m happily single and don’t want to ruin my work eye candy by setting real expectations. maybe it’s the fact that i’ve been in a dead dad funk and haven’t really felt up for hair flips and tell-me-about-it-stud‘s. whatever the reason, it sure doesn’t feel like it’s going very well.
lucky for me, training season is upon us. the sun is finally coming out to play and the sweet, sweet days of spring are quietly approaching. i can feel the cosmic shift happening. the thaw is just around the corner and i’m eager to get back outside. this summer i have big plans. i want to climb all of the mountains. i want to sleep outside every night. i want to hike until my feet give out. i want to start training for 19,341 ft. i want to be strong and fast and fearless. so i’ve started hitting the gym again.
at the gym, i’m ruthless. i’m there for me and only me. i work hard. i’m not trying to impress anyone but myself. i’m completely unaware of who’s around me or what other people might be thinking. my face gets red. i sweat through my shirt. i am unapologetic on what i look like (after all, i work hard in the gym so i can look good the rest of the time). i’m confident, cool and collected. i wear my shorts inappropriately short. it is the complete opposite of lunchroom angela.
so i’ve decided with my re-discovered motivation to get back in shape and get back outside, i’m going to start putting myself out there more. i’m going to try and bring gym angela into other parts of my life whether it be socially, artistically, intellectually or otherwise, it’s time to be unapologetic and in really short shorts.
it’s training season, ya’ll. lose the pants and start following your dreams.
