After almost two and a half days off, Confidante returned to the front desk yesterday. He had all the action from three to eleven, so I told him maybe he should write my blog. But, he was too busy answering phone calls, checking people in and warding off the ladies. There’s no end to the positive vibes, and what they attract when your wisdom tooth falls out. Finally. It happened at 5:10 a.m. on Wednesday. As you know, he’d been working on its extraction for a week ever since he crowned it with his electric toothbrush. I am so glad his ordeal is finally over, ‘cause he was getting a tad too cranky, if you ask me.
He picked me up from the hairdresser yesterday. Said I looked “fly” and 25 when I got into the car. I would have been happy with 35, but I’ll take the 25. I told him I could really get used to being chauffeured around, and then he imitated Morgan Freeman’s character in Driving Miss Daisy. I meant, as in leaving the driving to someone else, twit. I was surprised the salon still hadn’t fixed the “moaning chair” at the shampoo sink: the one that sounds like its complaining, “Get OFF me” when you sit on it. It’s one of those massage chairs that recline. It could use a good squirt of oil, or something.
I have no idea where yesterday went, let alone this entire week. I suppose that’s because I spent most of the day and early evening away from the hotel. If you can believe it, I haven’t even played pool this week. What I have done is gotten back on track with my exercise after taking a breather for three days. Don’t worry. I paid for it. The elliptical machine is unforgiving. Well, come to think of it, so is the treadmill, except in a different way. Ever since I took a break and starting walking outside and using the elliptical machine, the treadmill has developed an attitude. We now have issues.
There was already a man in the gym this morning when I arrived, one of those jocks who like to push themselves to the brink of a heart attack. He was lifting really heavy weights while reclining on a Pilates ball. I thought he’d busted a gut listening to him straining so hard. Then, he stood on his head, and put his feet against the wall. He made such a racket grunting and straining that I wondered if he was lifting weights while he did this. I was
bench pressing weights myself at the time (but, quietly), so I didn’t want to be obvious and turn my head to look at him. Every now and then he’d start pacing around me. I’d already asked him if I could use the bench, so that wasn’t it. Nor, did I think he had to use the bathroom. He just couldn’t stay still. Finally he left, and I had the place to myself, that is, until Dave a.k.a. Chappell strolled in. I had an equipment problem to discuss with him which required me getting off the machine I was on. No point in finishing on it. So, I
moved to another. After all that, I doubt I even worked off 150 calories. Nothing like being in a gym for an hour, and feeling like you didn’t do anything.
He picked me up from the hairdresser yesterday. Said I looked “fly” and 25 when I got into the car. I would have been happy with 35, but I’ll take the 25. I told him I could really get used to being chauffeured around, and then he imitated Morgan Freeman’s character in Driving Miss Daisy. I meant, as in leaving the driving to someone else, twit. I was surprised the salon still hadn’t fixed the “moaning chair” at the shampoo sink: the one that sounds like its complaining, “Get OFF me” when you sit on it. It’s one of those massage chairs that recline. It could use a good squirt of oil, or something.
I have no idea where yesterday went, let alone this entire week. I suppose that’s because I spent most of the day and early evening away from the hotel. If you can believe it, I haven’t even played pool this week. What I have done is gotten back on track with my exercise after taking a breather for three days. Don’t worry. I paid for it. The elliptical machine is unforgiving. Well, come to think of it, so is the treadmill, except in a different way. Ever since I took a break and starting walking outside and using the elliptical machine, the treadmill has developed an attitude. We now have issues.
There was already a man in the gym this morning when I arrived, one of those jocks who like to push themselves to the brink of a heart attack. He was lifting really heavy weights while reclining on a Pilates ball. I thought he’d busted a gut listening to him straining so hard. Then, he stood on his head, and put his feet against the wall. He made such a racket grunting and straining that I wondered if he was lifting weights while he did this. I was
bench pressing weights myself at the time (but, quietly), so I didn’t want to be obvious and turn my head to look at him. Every now and then he’d start pacing around me. I’d already asked him if I could use the bench, so that wasn’t it. Nor, did I think he had to use the bathroom. He just couldn’t stay still. Finally he left, and I had the place to myself, that is, until Dave a.k.a. Chappell strolled in. I had an equipment problem to discuss with him which required me getting off the machine I was on. No point in finishing on it. So, I
moved to another. After all that, I doubt I even worked off 150 calories. Nothing like being in a gym for an hour, and feeling like you didn’t do anything.