Why I Can’t Use My Gym
Once upon a time, Alex the Cute was cycling to his local gym where he planned to pump some iron and stare at other cute men, some of them middle-aged (oh boy!) In his pack were exercise shoes, a protein shake, and all of the various documentation he needed to use the said gym because it was Japan, and therefore bureaucratic and tedious. He was so excited.
Upon parking his bicycle, he noticed another lad, of pale skin and fair eyes, who too was parking his bicycle. Alex lives in a foreign land, so seeing another person of his ethnic background automatically means that they should talk to each other (for some reason.) And so, talk they did, but Alex’s polite smile soon faded.
This stranger was from another foreign land from Alex, so they didn’t really have that in common. Plus, this stranger was significantly older than Alex... and not especially interesting... and eager, for some reason, to share copious amounts of personal details with Alex that Alex didn’t really care to know. Within moments, Alex learned that his new friend was going through a divorce with kids involved, and had developing heart disease.
Alex went inside to work out after sever minutes of awkwardly trying to extract himself from the conversation, and all seemed well. However, the stranger too intended to pump some iron, and whilst Alex was pumping his own iron, the stranger kept awkwardly making eye contact with him and speaking to him, which caused Alex to have to remove his ear buds and tensely listen to this stranger’s apparently endless tales.
By the end of the day, Alex’s curse was sealed. Rather than be an adult and tell this new person that he didn’t like talking at the gym, Alex realized he could never use this gym again. He went on many quests atop his gallant, bewheeled steed, searching high and lo for a new gym to pump some iron. And found one he did, and Alex never had to talk to the stranger again, and all was well.
The end.
