Can You Meet Men at the Gym?
Betty takes you on two workout adventures—once dressed up and once dressed down to see if the fellas respond to the difference.
So, here I am below, in all my natural glory, sans make-up, coupled with my hair in a sloppy ponytail and donning a baggy sweatshirt. This is a look only a mother could love…
Or is it?
Last week I went to the New York Sports Club on 23rd Street and Park Avenue in NYC on two separate occasions (go me!) for some male-meeting reconnaissance. For visit number one, I dressed in my comfy, I-don’t-care-what-I-look-like-it’s-the-gym attire and tried to chat up some male specimens that were working on their fitness. Here’s what happened.
6 p.m.: Spin Class – I made sure to enter just as the class was reaching maximum capacity and purposely dove for the same Spinner a gent in his early 30’s was headed toward. “Oh, were you going to use this?” I asked, ever so coyly. “No, please you take it,” he replied. Chivalry is not dead after all! The man ended up having to skip the class because all the other bikes were taken. I never did find him again after the class ended to give him a proper thanks – in the form of my phone number.
6:45 p.m.: Machine Work – I spotted a cute piece of man meat going back and forth on a couple of contraptions that work out the legs. I decided to ask him to show me how to use one of them. “Can I rotate in with you, and oh, what’s your name?” I asked. Dan was happy to explain the machine to me, but was not so keen on chatting. As I tried to make light chit chat, he feigned interest, but was definitely more interested in growing his man muscles then talking to me. Must’ve been married, or gay. (Right Mom?)
7 p.m.: Abs – A twenty-something-year-old cutie was stretching on one of the gym’s large communal matted areas. I parked myself adjacent to him and started in on some crunches. After my first set I asked, “Can you suggest a good lower abs workout?” He told me to lay flat on my back with my legs extended along the floor and crunch that way. I’m not so sure he knew what he was talking about, but I proceeded to do as he advised. “How am I doing?” I asked after a few more crunches. “Your abs are going to get so rock hard,” he replied with a cockiness I found instantly annoying. This time, I was the one who had to do the ignoring. His cuteness level dropped five points as he kept barking at me to, “Keep going, shortie!”