Fit To Love - Part 3

 

This posting is a continuation of a novel, Fit To Love, that I am writing on Twitter.  It’s here, in case you are not a Twitterer.  Many are not.  On Twitter, each entry can be only 140 characters in length, including spaces.  This is a structure that requires a different kind of writing than any other.  Hmmm… 

As our last installment ended, our hero had been working out, developing himself into a man whose muscles called out to the softer parts of a woman and drew her to him like a magnet.  Or, so he thought.   So far, he has struck out at each encounter, but he is hopeful and determined.

The first three entries are in the Twitter format to give you a feel for this unique medium.

Heck, I didn’t want to be like that. I saw myself as debonair, suave, sophisticated, and a prince among men. Oh, who was I kidding? 7:36 AM Aug 15th, 2009 via twhirl

I WAS debonair, suave, sophisticated, and some kind of royalty. And, yet, just a guy. A guy who longed for a girl. I mean, woman. 7:59 AM Aug 16th, 2009 via twhirl

Exercise, for whatever purpose, is a noble thing. No matter your intentions, your heart will always benefit. Mine was pounding. 8:08 AM Aug 17th, 2009 via twhirl

It seemed everywhere I looked, each possibility was working out. At the treadmill. At the rowing machine. With the dumbbells.  

This was encouraging. Grandpa, a dumbbell himself, had always said, keeping everlastingly at it brought success.  He might not have had this in mind.

He would have thought I was crazy – he always did – but so what? This was wisdom in action.

I refined my search for love. I developed a set of principles. I decided I would not stand for failure. Love would conquer all. 

The next few times, at the club, I worked on myself, so to speak. In particular, my abs, which were more keg, than six-pack. 

Sure, I saw there were gorgeous women everywhere. But I was doing everything I could to prevent the kind of rejection I had gotten so far. 

I tried to keep my head down and my mind focused. One, two, three. One, two, three. That’s how elementary, it’s gonna be.

Simplicity was the key. Keep breathing. Don’t stop. Till you get enough. Ok, I wasn’t swearing, but these tunes were making me crazy. 

As I gazed at the mirror, I could see the progress I was making. I could also see a blond, with long legs, on the bike behind me.  

She was pedaling, but getting nowhere. Perhaps the time was right. I felt good. I would go over there and end her loneliness.

I walked nearer and gave a small wave. She looked at me and pedaled faster. Was I scary or something? What could I do? I smiled.

She skidded to a stop, leaned forward, and asked, ‘Was I going too fast?‘ Who was the flirt here? “No, but don’t let it happen again.” 

She tried not to smile. Wow, I was good! “Maybe we could ride together sometime? Or, get a cup of coffee?” Smooth devil. 

Our plan was to meet at Vic’s the next morning, before our workouts. I couldn’t sleep the night before. I had been practicing coffee.

I splashed on, “Eau de Love”, and pulled up my collar. I brushed my teeth and turned my eyebrows on extra cool. I headed out. 

The sun! Morning! I felt like a million bucks. Coffee was now as important to me as it was to normal people. Wow! Let the love begin. 

She was beautiful. She was a treat for sore eyes. No, a feast. Her complexion was creamy. Her hair was like frosting. I was hungry. 

Hungry for love. She smelled like coffee. No, that must have been what we ordered. That, and a couple of muffins.

The first thing she said was, Hi. It was like music. She kept talking and I was floating, like Pepe Le Pew, upon the sound of her voice.

I tried to tell her of my feelings. Of my endless, so far, search for love. She talked on, as if I wasn’t even there. She took a breath. 

I jumped in, but she blinked her eyes and asked for another muffin. I got it. She smiled and began again. I gazed at her, silent and sad.

I guess that, back at the gym, she had been exercising too hard to talk and now had returned to her regular M.O. OMG! Was she 4 real? 

After about 45 minutes, she looked at me, a little startled. Like I was someone she hadn’t yet been introduced to. Well, we did just meet.