Gym Incident

**Ok. As if I hadn't already made a great case for my old-lady-ness...I just got really excited for Jeopardy! when I realized it was the college championship. Eesh. I just felt I should add in that little tid-bit.**

Have you ever had someone look at you in a way that made you so uncomfortable you thought about throwing something at them just to break the eye contact? Yeah, well. That happened to me today.

My gym buddy and I are branching out and trying new stuff so we don't get stuck in a rut. Mondays are lap swimming, steam room and sauna enjoying extravaganzas. That said, I walk into the gym a first grade teaching goddess (hah) and I walk out a half drowned, bra-less, pajama wearing, mascara smeared schlub. (Note: but I feel all healthy and shiny on the inside!)

So imagine me, this soggy vision I have just described to you, walking down the hall toward the front desk.

Now, the hallways at my gym are freakishly narrow. I mean it's as if  the very building itself is willing you to get your ass in shape.

Two gentleman were standing in the hallway talking as we walked towards them. (Ok. No biggie.) They glanced down the hallway as we came towards them. (I'm still ok with this.)  I give the awkward half smile that I give to strangers I am about to be in close proximity to (still handling this). I expect him to smile back and look away. I'm guessing you've already figured out that this is not how the story ended. He continued to stare so hard at me and my gym friend that I began to wonder if I had, in fact, forgotten my pants when I changed from my swimsuit. (No worries, they were totally on.). As we walk towards them (which seemed to take forever) this guy just keeps staring (I'm getting really skeeved at this point). And to make matters worse he only makes conversation with us after we have passed him by (skin crawling a little bit) so we had to turn around to talk to him for a moment before we could leave (REALLY?).

Now, I'm a big fan of eye contact -as most adults competent at verbal communication are. Also noteworthy is the summer I spent in Italy where staring down a stranger in a public arena is the NORM. And still this managed to creep me out.

Maybe it was the close claustrophobic hallway. Maybe its' because I was very aware of my braless-ness. Perhaps it was the fact that all my makeup was now on the damp towel I was carrying in my hand. Maybe it was just that I am the center of freaking attention for eight hours a day for 20 six year olds and I'd hit my limit.

Either way, I would have given my right eyebrow ( I mean seriously, how weird would I look without that)  for this guy to have followed social protocol, politely smile, and look away.

I'm just saying.