On Monday nights, my secret boyfriend Colin teaches two of the most popular classes of the week (spinning and abs). Spinning starts at 5:30 and sign-up begins at 4:30 because the class fills up by 4:35. To keep people busy, Colin begins his abs class at 5 and it ends right as spin starts. It's like Must See TV for Crunch. I don't work on Mondays because I love it so much and the CPK shift changes during day or night would prevent me from the ridiculous sign-up process. Crunch is so crazy, you actually get to pick which bike you sit on ahead of time thanks to their seating chart.
Let it be known that I hate everyone in these classes, really. It's a very Type A group of women executives who are terrified of turning 30...3 years ago. They act like they love all the gay guys but it's obviously a political movement to keep their jobs, because the queens own showbiz. Everyday, I get there at 4:30 and walk shamefully to the back of this line while I'm silently judged for not being there at 4:15 to be the first bitch to sign-up. But I sit in the front of these classes and interestingly enough, the type A's want the middle rows or the back. I like the front because I can a) drool over Colin and b) learn how to spin better.
What were we talking about? Oh yes, the fucker. You'd hate him. He and his queeny little friend walk in together everyday. They're both tall and have dark hair, which by proxy makes them attractive. Fucker has beady eyes and doesn't smile unless it's to offset an awkward moment with a but-kissing girl. And then it's more like a sighing breath like, "huh huh huh huh...oh my cheeks hurt." His cheeks are perfectly square, as I'm sure his sex life is, also.
He can stretch his legs and back perfectly. His abs are perfect. he doesn't moan like I do when Colin calls "C'mon everyone, 8 more!" He just faces upward and is perfect for longer. Today I hoped that one day he gets diarrhea during class, the kind that he thinks is a fart but turns out to be more. A trail of pink tears.
The day I joined Crunch, Fucker was in the front of the line and I asked, "Is this the line for Colin's class?" And he said, "Um, yeah." Like in that sing song asshole way..."Ummm, yeaaaa-H!?!?" Like so faggy, you know? Like I was trying to hit on him and that was the best line I could come up with. Please. He's so nelly I'd have to hop on a cloud to talk to his fairy ass. He always stands with his arms folded, like he's cold. Like he's in New York City outside in a long line to see some Judy Garland tribute show on Broadway.
I imagined his Connexion profile saying something like, "Definitely NOT looking for sex. Feminine guys need NOT apply. I just love dancing to Gwen remix's and drinking mojitos with my 'bois.'
Today I saw him pull into the garage in a brand new silver Saturn and it made me really angry. Why do the most horrible people have the things I want, and by that I mean the back-up for such a shitty attitude?