Tom Meadows didn't consider himself an expert on people -- after all, he was a technology guy, for the last four of his 27 years a network engineer. But he did find his membership at Somerset Fitness Club to be interesting -- and a source of amusement. He classified the members as 'Regulars', 'Part-Timers' and 'Occasionals'. After his first year of 4- to 5-day-a-week workouts, he had most members tagged, and had even assigned nicknames to a few.
Unlike others, this gym attracted an even mix of men and women which Tom liked better than his last gym which was thick with jacked-up muscleheads with who-knows-what artificial chemicals messing up their bodies. But, being serious about his workout routine, he didn't come to the gym for the scenery. He did like the smoothies they served at the snack bar, and treated himself to one most every night on the way out as a reward for sticking to his workout schedule.
Not that he didn't notice the women at Somerset, several of which were attractive. There were three that stood out -- he had labeled them 'Bimbette' 1, 2 and 3. Their lack of focus on actually exercising and tight, revealing spandex outfits were advertising that let the men know they were available. Numbers 1 and 3 had struck up conversations with him. While they were cute, Tom didn't bite as his current girlfriend, Cyndi, already fit this category. The Bimbettes didn't lack for attention from other male members (by either definition).
Early January brought the usual group of new-years-resolution freshman members, including Her, and She immediately caught Tom's eye. A little on the tall side, maybe five-nine, with an attractive, but not 'cute' face, a perfect nose, big blue eyes, pronounced cheekbones and perfectly trimmed eyebrows, Tom figured her for mid-twenties. Her wavy blonde hair was ponytailed by a plain white ballcap. No earrings. She wore a loose sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants, so whatever was underneath, she wasn't advertising. No makeup -- but she didn't need it. He decided she resembled the actress Robin Wright.
"Definitely not Bimbette #4," Tom muttered under his breath.
She tossed a bag into one of the cubbyholes the club had along one wall for members that didn't need to change in the locker rooms. They were in plain view, so you didn't have to worry about theft. She pulled out a small clipboard and went right to work. Tom could see She was very focused on her workout, not looking around, not making eye contact, no chitchat.
Her schedule turned out to be Monday and Wednesday, 6-7pm which overlapped with his Monday to Thursday 6-7 slot, so he saw Her twice a week. While She always wore baggy sweats, Tom could tell from numerous surreptitious looks that there was first-class body underneath, including very substantial breasts. A couple of the Regular guys attempted, without success, to strike up conversations, despite the obvious wedding ring. She just ignored them, and never made eye contact with Tom for more than a split second.
It was on the third Monday in February that the incident happened. Tom had noticed the two guys sign in and get guest passes. They were a bit seedy looking, not quite up to the club's standards. They checked out the place without actually trying any of the machines or weights. One of the pair nodded towards Her, and they strode over and stood on either side, leaning on the adduction machine's frame, as She worked. Tom, watching the scene in the wall mirror from about twenty feet away, sensed something was not quite right. He could tell She said something and Tom saw her eyebrow raise as She scowled at them, clearly not appreciating the attention. The bigger of the two rested his hand on Her shoe, in the machine's footrest, and that was enough for Tom.
He popped off his machine, muttering under his breath, "Enough, dickheads," strode over, stood next to Her, and smiled. "Hey, honey, you about done and ready for dinner?"
He turned and positioned his 6'2", 215-pound body within six inches of Mr. hand-on-foot, looked down and fixed him with a totally blank expression and cold stare. Proving they weren't as stupid as they appeared, both knuckleheads reluctantly fled the scene. Tom turned towards Her as She got off the machine. "Hey, didn't mean to-"
Her face turned red and She wagged her finger in his face. "I can handle myself without your help, musclehead, so back off!"
Tom backed up, raising his palms in front of him, turned and went back this machine. "Well, guess that wasn't a very smart move. She's a real hard case. What was I thinking?', he mused as he resumed his workout, not looking up to avoid seeing Her. When he finished his reps and got up, She was gone.
******
Kelli Alaine Sappington stalked out of the gym, her jaw clenched. 'Who the hell does he think he is, trying to 'save' me from those cretins? Just because I've got tits doesn't mean I can't take care of myself! Tired of being patronized by men.' She threw her bag onto her Jeep's front seat, slammed the door and sped out of the parking lot.
She was still fuming when her older sister Patti called. "Hey Kel - what's up?"
She recounted the incident, adding her pungent opinion of the two guys that approached her.
Patti's curiosity was piqued. "So, the guy that butted in -- was he an ass about it?"
"Well, no." She was finally calming down.
"Have you seen him around the gym before?"
"Yea, he seems to be a regular."
"Describe him."
"What? Why?"
"Just do it."
"Oh, he's tall, maybe six-two or six-three, dark hair, pretty muscular."
"Cute?"
"I really didn't notice...well, um, I guess you could say that."
"Ok, so, a tall, handsome, muscular man thinks you might need help and steps in - and hell, he was clever about it - and you tell him to fuck off -- right?"
Kelli didn't answer, processing, staring at the road.
"Girl, I'm going so dope-slap you next time I see you! Some handsome guy is a perfect gentleman, and you push him away. Really?"
"Oh."
"So, the next time you see him you better apologize for being a big-titted bitch, little sis, or I'm going to come to this gym and make you!"
Kelli laughed. "Ok, ok, I hear you, dammit, you're right."
"Just remember, big sisters are always right!"
"The hell! You're the one who told me to marry that Brad guy -- and he turned out to be an ex-con!"
They both laughed.
"Hell, the guy probably couldn't stop himself from walking over -- he was probably drawn in by the gravitational field of those freakin' huge juggs of yours, like all men have since those things erupted when you were 14! Not fair you got the family huge tits -- but I have a far better ass!"
Kelli laughed. "The hell you do -- with my working out now I'll have you beat!"
"Don't count on it, blondie! Hey, see you and Richard at my place Saturday night?"
"Sure! Bye, 'T."
As she thought about it over the next two days it was more and more clear that she had been a bitch. 'Damn, hate apologizing, especially to a man.'
*****
Kelli called her sister on the way to the gym Wednesday night. "Ok, I'm going to apologize to the guy tonight. He'll probably tell me to stick it."
"You're wrong, Kel. I think you'll make a new friend."
Tom was working arm curls when he saw Her approach out of the corner of his eye. 'Oh, great, guess I'm going to get another ass-chewing.' She stopped in front of him, bit her lip, folded her arms around her chest and looked down, nervously. He put the weight down and raised his palms up. "Hey, look, I'm sor--"
"Um, hey, um, I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry I was a bitch."
He stared at her, totally surprised, unable to think of a response.
She'd rehearsed the apology, enunciating each word clearly. "You were just trying to help, and I should appreciate that." She continued, biting her lip, waiting for his reaction. 'He'll probably tell me to stick it. Can't blame him.'
She looked up as he broke into a huge smile and extended his hand. "Accepted. I'm Tom."
Surprised, she hesitated, then took his big hand, managing an awkward half-smile. "Kelli."
He held her hand just a fraction of a second longer than what might have been appropriate, and she noticed. After a few seconds he broke the awkward silence. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Kelli. Um, you have a good workout."
"You too, Tom." They went their separate ways.
She felt a chill in her upper back. 'Damn, he's an attractive man. I really should do something else to apologize.'
Tom noticed she was gone when he finished up his workout. He stopped by the snack bar on his way out to grab his usual smoothie. The teenaged barista handed him his cup and he went to insert his credit card, but the kid waved him off and nodded towards the door. "Don't need it -- that woman in the white ballcap that just left paid for it."
On the paper cup, written in pretty, flowery script was 'Sorry.' He smiled as he walked out.
*****
Tom found himself looking forward to seeing her when Monday rolled around. She was already there, on the lat pulldown machine. He stopped, wondering if he should approach her, say something - or not. She turned and looked at him for a few seconds, so he decided to go for it.
"Hey, thanks for the smoothie, Kelli -- that was nice."
She gave that half-smile again. "Least I could do."
He gave her his big smile. "So, how do you like this new machine?"
"It's a little stiff, but better than the old one." The ice broken, they chatted a bit and went on with their workouts.
Over the next few workout days Tom and Kelli fell into the routine of briefly chatting at the beginning of their workouts, and that progressed to short talks at the end of their sessions at the snack bar. Their conversation came easily, but was narrowly confined to working out, or 'how was your day?'. Comfortable, but not overly personal. Tom noted she was strong, and pushed herself pretty hard, increasing her weight level regularly.
On the Wednesday of the fourth week after the 'incident' he was buying his smoothie when she walked up. He nodded to the menu. "I think I owe you one -- what'll you have?"
Her eyes -- her very pretty, very blue eyes - narrowed just a fraction, and her left eyebrow arched up as she processed his offer. 'Don't want him to get any ideas, but hell, it's just a smoothie.' She nodded and placed her order. They walked out together with their smoothies into the unseasonably warm night. A picnic table occupied the small, rather forlorn patch of grass right in front of the club.
"I think I'll just sit here and enjoy the night for a few minutes. Join me?"
He sensed a slight hesitation, then she sat down next to him. He smiled. "So, did you notice the guy with the hairpiece on the treadmill?"
She smiled -- a full smile, for the first time. 'Oh, wow, that's a beautiful smile!'
"Yea, does he think nobody actually notices the rug?" They laughed, and talked about some of the more unusual club members for a few minutes. They finished their smoothies, got up and walked into the parking lot together. She was right in front -- a well-worn Jeep.
"Looks like your Jeep's been around for a while."
She opened the door and climbed in. "Yea, I've had it ever since I started driving -- we're used to each other. 'Night."
He waved. "Have a good weekend."
