Wednesday, 21 November 2007

Wednesday 21/11/07 Part Two

So, today I’ve got the story about the time when I visited Bobby’s gym (well, a couple of hours ago) with hilarious consequences.

Before that though: I posted a picture of my bicep earlier today (scrawl down to see it) and one reader left the following comment:

“You gotta do something about those triceps, friend”

Now I don’t know why I need to get defensive about this, but I certainly do. Possibly because I’m insecure. In the picture, you can clearly see I’m flexing my bicep. As anyone in possession of at least one arm will know, this is usually the case: you flex your bicep, your bicep becomes bigger. The tricep doesn’t really come into this at all – it’s a whole different muscle. It’s like telling somebody, “you’re not very tall” when they’re sat down.

Even more confusingly, my tricep is not in the shot at all. You can’t see it. So it’s also a bit like saying to somebody, “you’re looking a bit cross-eyed today Jennifer”, when Jennifer is in bed and wearing a sleeping mask too.

In any case, the triceps are in fact my overdeveloped (disproportionably) muscle group. I had to stop working them out completely about a year ago, because they were overtaking anything else. And here is some photographic evidence:


This is a picture from my first photo shoot ever in May 2005. Look at my arm and tell me I wasn't right to stop training triceps. It's as big as my head.



This picture was taken this evening in my living room. Indeed, my triceps could really use me "doing something" about them.



This picture was also taken this evening in my living room - I don't know why I'm green.



Sorry about the rant, but it just fascinates me how a large number of different people can look at the same picture and see completely different things. In a picture that shows my bicep, somebody feels the need to comment on my tricep. I suppose I can also look forward to posting pictures of my hair and getting complaints that my knees are knobbly.

This is not a dig at the reader at all (sorry if it comes across that way), just an observation on human nature.

Fine then. Now that’s settled (and I’ve lost a reader in the process), this is what happens at Bobby’s gym.

When I go in I see that this gym is big. About 8.5 bigger than my usual one. I go in the changing room and get changed very slowly, keeping my top off until the last moment when I’m just about to step out so as to attract the wandering eyes of any gays that might be around. This is my mission – to evaluate the calibre of the gay population there / find Bobby a future husband / explore the alleged the debauchery and mutual masturbation in the showers post workout.

I go into the gym and walk around at least three times, keeping a straight face but carefully observing all the dudes. At the cable cross over area, I spot this guy in a white vest, blue shorts and obscene sunbed tan and recognize my first candidate.

I start doing bicep curls next to him and catch his eye. Then I catch his eye again. Then I catch his eye again and he smiles at me. Of course I don’t smile back (I never do when “flirting”, it’s too welcoming a sign) but keep giving him sideways glances to make him think I’m interested. That’s it – he’s mine and for the next hour that I’m in the gym, he keeps following me around, working out next to me. Quite a few times I walk to the water fountain which is near the gym exit, and he actually comes there too, just in case I walk into the changing room and he misses it.

Mind you, this is not some great achievement – I realize that this is the guy Bobby warned me about, calling him The Cruiser, because that’s what he does. Stalks people and wanks with them in the showers.

I forget about The Cruiser for a bit and look around for actual nice looking, decent people who are not into public mutual masturbation / a clichéd gay existence / tanorexia.

I identify two people that I can easily fall in love with. These are the people that I recommend to Bobby for future affairs (if he can identify who they are by this vague description):

a) This guy is wearing a black t-shirt, and white shorts. He is not Caucasian; possibly part Arabic? Middle Eastern? Something like that. He has quite long stubble and the biggest legs I have seen outside Josh Lewsey. He is working out with another dude who’s wearing a black t-shirt that says Ultimate Fighting Championship on it, and I get they feeling they might be personal trainers, but not working at the time. I also get the feeling that they are straight, but I never said it was gonna be easy.

Bobby, I would recommend this guy for an extra marital affair, as he’s too sexy to be tied down and doesn’t seem like he has a good job enough to marry.

b) This guy is handsome in a very basic Caucasian way. He is wearing a yellow t-shirt and blue quite baggy shorts. He has brown hair, short stubble and amazing blue eyes that I almost find myself lost into whilst doing ab crunches next to him, but I quickly recollect myself and stop looking to avoid becoming a Cruiser myself. Oh yeah, he also has a quite big tattoo on his left arm (not on the inside like mine – on the outside). I can’t tell what it is, it looks like a blob. Maybe it is actually a blob.

Bobby, I would recommend this guy for your one and only husband, as he’s a sweet little bunny and a nice bloke with a good (but not overwhelming) job.

Do these guys sound familiar?

By that point I’ve been there for 1.5 hours (3 times longer than I usually stay in the gym) and I have exhausted any bicep and forearm exercise I can think of, and myself. I stop at the water cooler to make sure The Cruiser sees me going out and follows me.

Predictably, he does. He’s obviously all geared up for some shower fun, so he follows me and we walk into the changing rooms almost at the same time. Then, just to piss him off, I go in the toilet and stay in the cubicle for 13 minutes, where I browse the internet on my mobile.
When I walk out, he is stood in the changing room wrapped in a toilet after having showered. I catch his eye again (once) take my clothes off but not my underwear, wrap a towel around my waist and walk into the showers.

Hilariously, The Cruiser comes back in behind me (I guess one shower is never enough). I go in a shower cubicle – he goes in the one opposite. I can see in the corner of my eye that he’s looking at me, but I never look up at him of course. Then I draw the curtain in my cubicle (ha!) take my pants off and shower like a normal person.

When I finish and walk back to my locker, I find him there all dry and ready – I guess he didn’t stay in the shower the second time after all after I closed the curtain. I dress without ever looking in his direction again and leave.

So that was fun then. I am now available to experience any other gyms readers may offer me a day pass for in return for a review here. I will only travel within zones 1 and 2, as this is what my annual season ticket covers. Thank you.

18 comments:

Bobby Vanquish said...

Yeah, the Arabic / olive-skinned guy is seriously fit, I know who you mean. And his work-out partner sounds like one of the personal trainers. Yeah, the "straight" issue may get in the way slightly but I love nothing more than a challenge you know.

Also, I am going to hunt down this boy with the blob on his arm tomorrow night.

And as for The Cruiser - well all I can say is that I told you so! He is a treat though because he just never ever gives up, he's always there!

I just think of the poor fucker, having showered like ten times every evening, his towel in the end must just be a damp rag - it's a wonder that he can actually get dry!

Finally - when blob-tattoo man and I finally get hitched you and your triceps can be the bridesmaids.

seahorse said...

brilliant story/review! top marks old chap...bravo! bloody marvellous...
bet my bottom dollar Bobby will be perfumed up and looking out for the (b) option tomorrow.

and your 'triceps' look fine. any bigger and abercrombie will have to design a couture LP kit.

London Preppy said...

bobby: I wish I could provide more info on the blob guy but as I said I didn't want to seem too cruisy.

I think the wedding should be a whole gym affair - and at the reception you should provide showers / towels for the cruiser too

seahorse: Thank you, thank you. Other people are travel writers - I can be the gym touring guy

Knight said...

Hey LP, love the gym story! Perhaps you should make it a weekly blog feature! Love how you played the Cruiser around hahaha, he must have felt pretty frustrated after that not being able to wank with you ;-) Good on ya!

Matt said...

"I never smile if I can help it. Showing one's teeth is a submission signal in primates. When someone smiles at me, all I see is a chimpanzee begging for its life."
-US Office

London Preppy said...

knight: I'm sure he was devastated. Until the next willing and available person walked in of course

matt: VERY good!

Marcus said...

Matt:

Oh that is so accurate! It is one of those things I intuitively felt but could never verbalize...I will no longer have any problem telling tops from bottoms.

Toby said...

I didn't mean to insult your triceps. I was sort of just joking.

-toby, vividblurry.com

London Preppy said...

toby: I knew that comment was not meant to be taken seriously, but at that point I had written my rant amd I particularly liked my joke about "anyone who has at least one arm will know...", so I put it in!

Trybaby said...

Not that it matters too much but is the cruiser ulgy? Old? Fat? So what you were tying to do was just rate a gyms gay population and not it's merits?

matt in sydney said...

This is my first time writing on your blog but felt compelled - bloody hilarious story mate! As I was reading through I could definitely relate to those sorts of scenarios. You totally crack me up dude!

London Preppy said...

trybaby: He's in his late 20s I guess, not old and sad and hideous and one might expect

Andre said...

Priceless post! Great job!

Any info on a certain trainer with (ahem..) glasses? ;)

London Preppy said...

andre: I'm afraid I didn't spot said person, even though he was one of hte chracters I was told to look out for...

Riky said...

HA! I do the same thing at the gym! People think I'm a bitch so now instead of not smiling, I give them a half smile (no teeth).

NGM said...

your feet look weird in that top photo

Timmy said...

Your review of the gym was funny. I'd love for you to come and review my gym but you would probably have to get way outside of your zones to get to the airport to get to Houston, Texas.

Timmy said...

Hey. I had an idea this morning when I was my gym because I was wondering how you would describe some of this folks and I actually started laughing. You should do the London Preppy Guide To Gyms. Sorta like the Zagat Guide for restaurants. Each of your readers will invite you to their respective cities/countries and of course they have to pay your expenses.