So I'm at the gym the other day doing my bi's and tri's thing when I come across this hot chick. I don't call all women chicks I just hadn't got to know her yet and she seemed a bit young and chickish. You know the type in bright colors with the short shorts with juicy written across the ass. Well, they didn't say juicy but they shoulda. Anyway, I stay lifting as she gets on a treadmill and starts the normal walk to loosen then muscles and warm up. She truly was a stunning thing of beauty. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and if it wasn't for my arm becoming sore I wouldn't of turned away. But I did and switched arms and started again. Counting to the amount I think I did with the other arm. I could look up at her thinking that people would think I was a stocker or something. You know what I mean. The gym is full of mirrors and nobody keeps their eyes to themselves. I know someone had seen me staring and was waiting to see if I look up again, and not to seem like a pervert I wouldn't give them the chance. So I continued with my work out and while switching machines a took another peek. She had moved up to the jog speed. I would say at least a six maybe more mile an hour pace. Not bad I thought and she'd been there for a good while. She couldn't be a smoker the way she was breathing. Perfect health of course I thought. I had been staring again. I really should stop that. So I started looking around at other people. The fat guy at what seemed t be his first day in a gym, the muscle bound jock who lived there and the employees who always looked high. At least the towel kid did. The trainers do on occasion but I can't tell if they're just happy to be there and got some sweat in their eye. I glance at the clock and I noticed my workout is over. Back to the world where I work out for money. Mentally as well as physically. I not going to mention where I work for I find it slightly embarrassing and it really has no ground in this story anyways. Well, anyways I go to change and I'm out in a flash and as I'm heading towards the door guess who I come across. Shes off the treadmill now and wiping her glorious body down with one of the gyms white towels. Walking and watching I run into the front counter as I'm leaving. Fortunately for me the front counter chick was on the phone and when she turned to see what the thud was I was picking up my water bottle I'd dropped. I'm sure some one else saw my disaster but they would probably forget by the next time they came to the gym. At least thats what I told myself. I such a fucking dork. You how you always come up with all the hypothetical situation right after. What if I just said hi? I should of ran on the treadmill next to her. I could of even wrote a note for the front counter to give to her. Even those weird porn scenarios crossed my mind of her coming up to me and asking me for my machine. She would feel my muscles and tell me how sweaty and hard I was. Wow, I am a fucking dork. On the drive to work I have the music blaring to drown out my singing I don't think about that girl once until I get to work. The guys I work with make me feel like I'm back in the locker room in high school. Tittys this and ass that, but the only tittys and ass I could think about were the ones running on the treadmill twenty feet away from me earlier that day. I joked around a little bit with the guys at work, tossing in my two cents on whether Angelina Jolie or Gweneth Paltro was hotter. When in actuality you really can't compare the two. Some guys want the porn star dirty girl looks of Angelina some times and on the other hand the girl next door marriable hotness of Gweneth. Not to say I wouldn't marry Angelina, but I would just think she was cheating on me all the time. Shes just got that look. So, the work days finally over and the gym girl is still in my brain. This happens to me I guess every once and a while and all I normally do is go home, drink a few beers, rub one or two out, and go to sleep, and all is fixed so thats what I do. On my way home I stop by the store and buy a six pack. I get home and watched my tivod shows that I miss while I'm at work. I end up rubbing more then two out and I sleep like a baby. The next morning I wake up like a new man. Another day of the same, but the spell that had hit me from Ms. Treadmill had washed away. It was nice thinking about her that day. She haunted my every thought. Maybe not so much haunted but occupied my mind through the mundane seemingly normal day. I wonder if that was just a small glimpse of what love would be. Thinking of someone all the time and wondering what they were doing or what they might have to say about certain subjects. Not being able to focus on even the smallest of tasks like walking for example. That front counter is abnormally large for the entrance way. I'm no architect but I would of designed it differently. Anyway, having that spell upon you all the time. To me that seems miserable, but I think thats because I've been single for too long. If I got to come home to Ms. Treadmill I probably wouldn't mind. Hell, if she had a personality as beautiful as she was to look at I wouldn't mind at all.
