After my horrible date with Adam, you'd think I'd have learned to never go out with anyone from the gym. Ever. Again. But I'm kind of slow that way.
I am the person who, at age 26, looked at my friend, Kristen, and said: "Hey! Their last name isnt' Doobie! I bet they aren't even brothers, either!" Sadly, I probably still wouldn't have put that puzzle together if I hadn't been on Myrtle Beach with the Doobie Brothers blasting out of the speakers just as some fraternity jack-asses walked by wearing shirts with Fred Flintsone on the back declaring "Yabba Grabba Doobie". Oh? Oh. Oh! "Hey! Their last name isn't Doobie..."
But, I digest. *
*(Extra points to anyone who can name who I stole that line from)
Yes, I met --let's call him Bill -- at the gym. I hadn't instituted the "no gym rats" rule yet. Plus, he was talking to my friend, Reggie, who is wicked pissa. I automatically assumed excellence by association.
I used to work with Reggie in a hospital in Boston. He was wonderful to work with. He's smart and funny and a hard worker. Plus, he's about the size of the guy from The Green Mile. We'd have 4 people about to give ourselves hernias trying to haul a gigantic patient out of bed. Then, sweaty and about to keel over, we'd call in Reggie. He'd get the person out of bed with one hand while drinking a latte with the other. Now I see him at the gym every now and then. I either give him a wave or a "Hi" or maybe a hug if neither of us are sweaty. He's great.
On this particular day, Reggie was talking with Bill. He introduced me and said we used to work together and told Bill how great I am. I told Bill that no, Reggie was great. And then we all went our seperate ways to work out.
(Oh--and by the way, Reggie is married. Just in case you are thinking "why doesn't this clueless chick just go for Reggie" )
Several days later, I ran into Bill again at the gym. "Seen Reggie?" he asked.
Then I asked him how he knew Reg, since he already knew I worked with him. Turns out, he grew up nearby and was friends with Reggie's brother.
Ok. Guess there's really nothing left for us to talk about so...
Oh? He wants to go out sometime? Again, I had no real desire to, but I was still on the "I have no idea what I am doing" kick, so I figured whatever. Plus, I couldn't think of any reason why not.
So I said "Why not?"
Of course, NOW I can think of a reason why not. I can think of SEVERAL reasons why not.
to be continued...