I hate the gym. Squeezing a workout into the day is a challenge. I have just 30 minutes after work allotted to the treadmill before having to pick up MP. Preschool closes at six.
If I don’t leave the office at exactly 5 p.m. or a few minutes before, I’ve blown it. Usually I blow it. Which means I make it to the gym on average … once a week. Which is stupidity. The Girl’s Trip is coming up fast. I have two months to get rid of the gut and at this rate, I might as well just stay home.
Today, during my frenzied 30-minute workout, I’m on the treadmill next to an attractive 40ish guy. There’s something a little different about him … I can’t quite put my finger on it …
Until, sweaty and excited, I realize I have come in contact with the highly elusive and low-key small town homosexual.
Rural homo cornholius.
Even in a small town gym, gay guys got game. It just looks a little different. It sounds a little different. And, to the casual observer, probably goes unnoticed.
“Hey Fish & Game Guy …” my neighbor calls with a big smile to a burly guy with a thick, redneckish Fu Man Chu, wearing standard government khakis. “What do you think of the .40 vs. .45 caliber semi-automatic?”
The innuendo is thick.
Oh. Bad.
I squint my eyes and hope for the best. Please no ass-kicking, please no ass-kicking, please no ass-kicking.
To my amazement, Big Fu smiles and comes forward.
And just like that, these two people, who only moments before were complete strangers, found common ground and were engaging in conversation.
Just two gay country guys talkin’ ’bout huntin’. (Had to be code.) I was so busy trying to remember this priceless exchange and NOT pee my pants, I didn’t hear much more. They are, after all, rare birds in this neck of the woods. And I loooves the gays. They always have a way of making me feel like the most beautiful creature in the world.
*sigh*
As for me, the gym is the LAST place I’d ever hope to find a love connection. And I have to admit, it IS a little irritating how EASY they made it look.
Not that I’m looking.
Mommy Pie 
You are so funny that I am at a loss for new ways to tell you how funny you are — and I’m pretty sure I’ve used the word “hilarious” to describe a post of yours at least five times a week since I “met” you. But, honestly, this peacock is unbelievable genius. It should be a poster or something. And I’ll bet Carson would approve.
I love it, “had to be code.”
And I loooves the gays.
Ah, made me think of Kathy Griffin.
Yes, in my prime I was the biggest fag hag there was. I’m from San Diego and the gay part of town had the best dance clubs, natch. And yes, isn’t it amazing how glamorous they make us feel?
I’ll crack up however if they were really talking about guns. 🙂
Also loving the San Diego gay bars. And the gays.
Oh, I miss my gay boyfriend back in the city. We’d do the gay bars and the bartenders would tell me I looked like Faith Hill. A complete LIE, but an AWESOME one.
Another San Diegan chiming in in support of the gays.
don’t feel too bad its different for gay guys. but i do wish its just as easy for straight people to just make it happen. not that i am looking either.
I so need to get photoshop. You crack me up!
Hillcrest rules baby!
those Gays. just love ’em. and two! in one small town! imagine.
I miss my fabulous and 1000x more fashionable boy-friend from college… this made me think of him!
“Rural homo cornholius”
Woke up the neighbors laughing — the neighbors who are a .45 shot away. Thanks for that, my dear — you rockus the Bloggywoodius.
Highly elusive and low key. Ha!