Dear Tall Dark and Handsome Man

That I walked into the gym with yesterday,

You are by far the best looking dude I have seen in a long time. 

Too bad I was looking pretty rough in a crumpled cotton tank that I found stuffed in the back of my dresser drawer. Not to mention the unflattering Nike Tempo shorts I was sporting to complete the ill fitted outfit.

You were looking nice though as you held the door for me on my way in. Nice slacks, button down and tie. Too bad I was to overcome by your chiseled face that failed to see the rug in front of me which caused me to lose my grace and stumble to the counter to swipe my card.

I couldn't look back at your beautiful face from there on out.

Although, I did hold hope that you would show up to my spin class. I got there real early. Grabbed a bike in the back next to the door (just in case I couldn't hang and needed to dip out early). But alas, you never showed. I guess your more of the body building kind instead of the disco-tech-esque spinning class kind. 

Nonetheless. I rather enjoyed my Lance Armstrong- clad in spandex- wannabe- spin instructor. I felt like I was up in Da Club with the beats he had coming out of his pod for each interval (he really likes Katy Perry and apparently I do too, because I almost caught myself singing I KISSED A GIRL AND I LIKED IT at the top of my lungs a couple of times.). Along with dimmed lights, it was the perfect night club setting minus the glow sticks and glitter (Not that I frequent a lot of clubs, I just have a good mental imagine from watching The Real World, those kids love Da Clubs). I really feel like this Lance Armstrong-clad in spandex- wannabe- spin instructor was fostering a perfect gym/nightclub setting for us to meet and then maybe swap digits ( The Real World kids do that too. Ya know, swap digits and stuff like that).

Damn.

Too bad.

Maybe I'll see you during my next date with the gym. I'll be sure to wear more spandex and less ill fitted clothing and I will keep my balance this time too. 

Caroline