On Friday Scott starts emailing me that he’s about to go to the gym so of course I tell him if Aussie PT is there he should give me a full report back, I need something, anything to get me through my second-to-last day in Athens.
So a couple of hours later he sends me a text and tells me that Aussie PT is there and they spoke to each other. Then I make a leap to the phone and call Scott and find out the following:
- Scott goes to the gym with Donnell. Aussie PT is in the changing room when they walk in, wearing only his underwear. His underwear is a pair of white briefs. We do not have brand information
- Donnell gives Aussie PT a 10/10 for body but he is not convinced by the whole thing, mainly because Aussie PT is not Brazilian (this is a problem Donnell has) and also he thinks he’s straight
- Scott and Donnell go to work out, about 50 minutes later Aussie PT emerges from the changing room all clean and preened. He always takes bloody ages in the changing rooms apparently (according to Scott), I’m starting to wonder how many different types of moisturiser he uses
- At this point Scott walks up to Aussie PT and chats to him and tells him that his friend (i.e. me) is interested in having a session with him and can we have his card? Aussie PT gives Scott his card and also takes my number
- During this conversation Scott also finds out that Aussie PT is originally from a different country but grew up in Australia and he has now lived in London for less than a year
I don’t want to write anymore about him to be honest, because who knows who might be reading this and whether it might get to him. Anyway, Scott also finds out his name of course (it’s on his card you know), so once he tells me that I log on to facebook straightaway and look him up.
I do find him but his profile is private so I can’t stalk him very much, the picture is shirtless though, he has his arms behind his head and he’s sticking his tongue out. I look at his friends list and they look quite a normal mix, the friends of a straight guy to be honest. He only has one friend that I know (who is gay), but Donnell’s theory is that this guy is one of his clients as a personal trainer – he lives in the area that Aussie PT’s gym is. So in conclusion, Aussie PT is most likely straight, and that’s cool of course, I’ll still do the training session with him because he really knows what he’s doing and I need new shoulders thank you very much.
On Friday evening I go downtown to Athens to meet my friend Christina. Christina is the only other person in Athens apart from Alex (who I met on Thursday) that I’ve kept in touch.
My Dad drives me to town but I’m already stressing about my return home: it will be too late to catch the train back and I’ll have to get a taxi. Interaction with Greek taxi drivers is one of me weakest points, but more of this in a second.
So I meet Christina and we go to a bar and Christina orders a glass of red wine (or is it white?) and I order two bottles of sparkling water at which point the waitress pulls a face at me and asks me what? like what I ordered is completely unheard of, which I suppose it is in a country where chain-smoking, thick Greek coffee and hard liquor consumption is compulsory from the age of 14. With Christina we talk about Greek singers, our love lives, Roisin Murphy and Bjork, how frequently you’re supposed to have sex, H&M, my blog, Aussie PT, infidelity.
Then we leave and I attempt to hail a taxi, but the way this works in Athens is that you stop the taxi, you tell them where you need to go and then they decide if they fancy driving there. Also, if you’re lucky enough for them to want to take you, you have to give them directions because no taxi driver knows where anything is.
So I finally get one, I have to say the name of the area where I live 5 times before he understands (taxi drivers seem to have a particular issue with my fucked up accent), then he asks me which way I want to go, I tell him I have no idea, we set off, I call my Mum and ask for directions, I start playing with my phone to stop him from talking to me, we get home, I get in, avoid talking to my sister who’s feeling particularly needy and chatty at 0200 in the morning, I go to bed, stay awake until 0500 thinking about changing my diet, freak out about this, take a Valium, pass out, wake up at 0930.
Finally, to conclude the Athens report, here are a couple more pictures from The Bathroom Sessions. At the best of times I don’t need much of a reason to take pictures of myself, so imagine when I’m stuck in Athens and I have nothing better to do.
Here’s picture one and in picture one we can see a quite formulaic shirtless pose (this must be the 3,476th I’ve posted on the blog), but the highlight is at the top of the picture where you can spot my ridiculous 15-year-old “beard”, which happened because I didn’t take my shaving kit in Athens.
EDIT: What an idiot that I am! I have been posting un-airbrushed, un-Photoshopped pictures on here for months, when I could turn this (look above) into this (look below). Thanks to the very kind reader who went into the effort of making these small enhancements, even though I'm really scared to think what a Photoshopped picture of Aussie PT would look like, considering how he already looks in real life.
Here’s picture two (without Photoshop magic) and in picture two we can see what happens when you push your stomach out, i.e. your abs look better but your chest and arms disappear. It’s a trade-off and I guess what we learn from this picture is that you can’t have it all, unless you are Aussie PT in which case you CAN have it all and you can take some of mine too.