Franz has really been on a roll lately. It could be his recent hot dates to Panera with ‘cougars’ that’s giving him these boosts of confidence, but when I come into the gym, he’s bouncing off the walls, ready to murder me by way of lifting weights. On top of that, he’s seriously on his game with making fun of, and embarrassing me.
Over the last 10 months, Franz and I have really gotten to know each other well. We’re like some seriously dysfunctional siblings who have a weird sense of humor, and fight/laugh like an old married couple. When we make fun of each other, we each know that it’s out of love. I respect Franz, and some where, deep down beneath the layers and layers of muscle, he respects me too.
Now, for story time. One day, about a month or so back, I was working out with Franz, and I was people watching the whopping three other humans in the gym. My old lady eyes were scrunched so I could attempt to see these people clearly, and Franz noticed me looking at them. One of these said human beings, was of the male species. Franz turned to me and said, ‘Oh, is that your type?’
‘Huh?’ I asked.
‘I see you staring at him… is that your type of guy?’
I replied with one of my witty remarks ‘Yep, I’m totally into a little bit of dad bod‘.
‘Well, he’s not a Dad… he’s like 22. Like, you could be his mom.’
So after that day, when Franz made me feel like an elderly female creep, I never looked into the poor ‘dad-bod-child’s eyes again. Until I walked into the gym, yesterday.
Me. Franz. Dad-Bod-Child. We are the only people in the gym. I walk in, set my phone down, and take my jacket off. Franz walks up to me, and without skipping a beat says, ‘I told ‘Dad-Bod-Child’ that you thought he was cute’.
I proceeded to scream at him, grab his chest and push him backwards. WTF. Why??
- I’m old.
This set the stage for the rest of the work out. I was furiously trying to shut him up, and also gather information at the same time. I wanted to know why the hell he thought that was a good thing to tell this poor child that I thought he was cute, but I also didn’t want to hear him talk about it any more. It was a weird place for me to be, in my head.
At the end of my work out, while I was pulling 75 pounds back in rows, is when Franz decided he should finish telling me about the conversation they had.
‘But wait!! You didn’t let me tell you about what he said, when I told him that you thought he was cute!’
‘Because I never ever ever said he was cute, and I really do not care, at all!’
‘Ok, shut up. You definitely said he was cute. Anyways, I told him you thought he was cute, and then I told him that you were super old, and he said, ‘Well, not really… I mean, I am 22′.’
Ok, so not only do I have a lying trainer who tells ‘Dad-Bod-Child’ that I think he’s cute, but then I have ‘Dad-Bod-Child’ who thinks that, at 22, he could …I don’t even know… ‘get with’ a 35 year old??
I think these Panera ‘cougar’ dates are really getting to Franz’s head.