19 October 2011

I don't like talking to naked strangers.

I was packing up my shit after working out tonight, and my book was sitting on the bench, as I was waiting to fully pack my gym bag until I'd managed to stow my shoes in the shoe compartment.

A woman came in from the shower -- butt-ass nekkid, with a towel around her hair. She asked which Neil Gaiman book I was reading (The Graveyard Book ... yeah, its YA. So what? The Boy I Currently Like loaded it to me) and that started a conversation. I wasn't going to be rude just because she was in her birthday suit.

It still felt a little awkward.

Seems weird, doesn't it, that in all the years I've been a member of one gym or another, that I've never had a conversation with a naked stranger. The last time I had a conversation with a naked woman was probably in a locker room in high school.

Another milestone crossed in this life of mine. Yay?

Oh, and I totally overstayed my two-hour parking validation for the first time ever at the Uptown LA Fitness. I had to pay ONE DOLLAR. It never even occurred to me that I could have been there for more than two hours. I blame the naked woman.

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