Little Miss Popularity

For a while I had an uneventful day yesterday. Unlike several days earlier, I did not have to go to the emergency room, nor did I make one of my typical pratfalls. At about 7:30 I decided I would go to my fitness center to do some sweating. Before I left my apartment I knew I was going to be using a recumbent bicycle. I am currently suffering from moments of vertigo and I figured that I would be less likely to fall off an exercise bicycle when compared to an elliptical or a treadmill. And besides, if I do fall from a recumbent bicycle, it is not as far to the floor.

I entered the fitness center and with my barcode card, signed in. There at the sign-in desk was a guy who not only knew my name, but asked if I had any lingering injuries due to the fall I took on Sunday. I told him I was pretty much okay. I then smiled and jokingly said that there would be no lawsuit filed. He grinned, nodded, and told me his name is Justin and that if I had any questions on anything pertaining to fitness, that he was a personal trainer. I smiled politely, uttered a quick thank you, and then headed towards the recumbent bicycles. Justin was the fitness center employee who hurried to me after my tumble from an elliptical a few days earlier.

I do not particularly like the exercise bicycles because they burn calories more slowly than does an elliptical, but after 40 minutes of sweaty pedaling, I figured I had done enough. I dismounted, toweled off, and then headed home.

Somewhere near 9 o’clock I figured that I would pop a bag of microwave popcorn and turn on the TV. I just got the popcorn started cooking when my phone rang. I sort of assumed it would be my mother calling. She has called me about every 12 hours since my emergency room episode on Tuesday. But it was not my mother calling. It was Jack, the guy I had gone out with last weekend. I was immediately excited to hear his voice, though I tried not to let it show in my tone. He told me that he had had a great time on our date. I in turn said something silly like, “Well, I’m glad you aren’t calling to tell me you had a bad time.”

Jack said that I was an “interesting person”, and asked if I would I like to go out again this coming weekend. I asked him if he had anything particular in mind and he suggested a pizza and a movie. Of course I agreed. Jack threw out a time on Saturday when he would stop by my apartment and I told him I would be ready.

I no sooner hung up then the phone rang again. The caller said a quick hello and then identified himself as Justin. For a few seconds I was a bit perplexed. Then he sort of chuckled and added, “Justin from the fitness center”. I giggled nervously and apologized for being air-headed. Anyway, we chatted for a few minutes and then Justin asked if I would like to go out this weekend for a drink. I did not immediately respond. I did not respond because I was unsure how I wanted to answer. In a way I wanted to go for that drink, but I generally do not like being even initially romantically involved with more than one guy at a time. I like to keep my life simple, and as egotistical as it might sound, I do not like to incite jealousy. (Wow, does that sound egotistical or what!?)  

But finally, after perhaps ten long seconds of uncomfortable indecision, I agree to meet Justin for a drink on Friday after work. My thinking was that I have gone out with Jack really only once, and Justin seemed like a nice guy, so why not? I told Justin I would see him on Friday, I then said goodbye. 

Anyway, I removed my now cool popcorn out of the microwave when once more my phone rang. It had to be my mother calling. Who else was left? Well, it was not my mother. It was Marty, a guy who knows me from nowhere else than this very blog. For many weeks he had written to me through my Google profile page, but for whatever reason I had never saw any of the posts and so did not respond. Five days ago he asked me in a blog comment if he could email me. I gave him my email address. He sent me what he had written; what I had been unable to read. What I found was that Marty had written some very kindhearted, compassionate things during the recent period of my romantic break-up. In the emails since, we have carried on a casual conversation about anything that came into our minds. Yesterday he asked me if he could call. I gave him my number.

Marty has a really nice voice. He talks a bit slowly, like he is being careful about the words he uses; something I would not have known from his emails. He started out confessing to me that he was nervous about calling but he figured he might as well. I think he then asked me how the vertigo was going; how I was handling it. I jokingly told him that I had been on a recumbent bicycle earlier in the evening and, amazingly, had not fallen off it. I’m not sure where the conversation went from there. We talked about Marty’s childhood, his past marriage, his work (construction worker), and his 11 year-old daughter. He showed both his funny and his serious side.

I got to babble about some past relationships, what I find attractive in a man, and even my most unusual bird sightings. We talked until well after 11 before we said goodnight. Unlike every other caller last night, Marty did not ask me out. I will now make my own nervous confession; I wish he had. :)