Thursday, July 30, 2009

It Happened.

So, once or twice a month I attend a support group meeting for people who have had bariatric surgery. It's nice to get information from people who've "been there, done that" so I can know what to expect.

One of the things that some of the extreme weight loss veterans have said (repeatedly) is that once you get to a normal-ish weight, men will hit on you. My attitude about it thus far has been, "Whatever."

But today it happened.

I was at the Y around lunchtime, which I never do, but because of a vomiting four year old it was necessary today. (Oh, and side note: Apparently the number of freaks at the Y goes up exponentially with each hour of the day, so prepare to be inundated later with Y stories about some that I encountered.)

Anyway, I'm sitting on the hip adduction machine, totally building up my Awesome Thighs of Death, all sweaty and stinky from thirty minutes of running, and this guy that I recognize from the pool moseys over and strikes up a conversation.

We swim at the same time three days a week, but have never talked before, and this is the first time I've seen him outside of the pool. He starts by talking about swimming, asking me if I'm an avid swimmer (which is just hilarious because he sees me doggie paddling at a speedy one mile per hour all the time). Then we talk about Lawrence of Arabia for a minute, because apparently he was present for that little display of Middle Eastern Male Dominance. Then he tells me that I have the Bluest. Eyes. Ever. And then he asked if I wanted to go out for coffee later.

So, what do I reply?

"Sorry, I don't drink coffee."

Not, "Sorry, I'm married." Gah!

He says, "Oh, well, water? Everyone drinks water?"

I say, "Sorry, I'm married." (Hello? Why was that not the first thing out of my mouth?)

And the poor guy felt bad. He apologised and said if he had any idea he wouldn't have suggested such a thing. In his defense, I don't wear my wedding ring at the Y. Because it totally makes me look unavailable.

Anyway, he left, embarassed. I finished my workout, elated.

I came home and told Will. He wasn't nearly as amused by the story as I was. Weird.

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