Since November I’ve been talking to this guy at my gym just about every day. I’m kinda rooting for him. If you’re a regular on my blog, you know the level of intelligence most men at my gym have. I’m hoping that he’s smart, though since November, he’s never said anything overly intelligent. I still think there’s a chance.

That being said, we’ve never exchanged names. It’s not one of those “He told me when we first met, but I didn’t think I’d need to remember” kinda deals…we’ve never exchanged names. And we talk to each other EVERY DAY. I know where he lives, works, plays…but not his name.

Once, he was telling me a story, in which, he was imitating a friend of his who was calling out his name. Of course, when he said his name, someone nearby dropped a weight, and I never caught it.

Shortly after that, he was telling me about his car (in much greater detail than I cared to hear). He said he was getting a big decal put on the back that said “Mustang”, he said because he wanted people to know it was him. So then I assumed his name was Mustang. Which is what I still call him.

I work out late, so when I get home from the gym, I get ready for bed and then sleep. Lately, I’ve been dreaming about him. Not in THAT way, but I dream that he’s leaving me hints about what his name is. Last night, he was Brian. The night before he was Dan. (Oddly, both names of uncles of mine).

So, 9 months later, my question is, what is an appropriate way to say “Hey, what’s your name?”

One thing I never understood about men, is why, once women say “no” to a date, they assume that you will change your mind. This is a VERY frequent occurrence, and is quite annoying.

About the time I started writing this blog, a short stalky guy approached me in the gym to tell me I had the best body there (duh), and that I was beautiful (duh). That has been the extent of every conversation I have had with him since then. I love the compliments, but it’s a little much. The last time I saw him, which was about a month ago, he said “I don’t know why I can’t think of anything to say around you. You make me so nervous”. Clearly he has no balls.Yesterday, I was doing cardio, flipping through a magazine, and watching the Jays…in other words, clearly occupied, and not looking for friends or conversation. Which, in man speak means “Please approach me, I am dying without you.” So Midget Boy comes up to me to talk. Tells me I’m sexy (duh), blah blah blah. I try to keep an eye on the game, and don’t put down the magazine, which in woman talk means “bug off”, but in man speak means “I love what you have to tell me. Please, keep talking.”

Then the dreaded part- he asks me out for coffee. (Dude, I’m a drinker, don’t be cheap, ask me out for martinis). I say “No, I don’t date guys from the gym.” In women speak that means “No. Not now. Not ever. Leave me alone and never speak to me again.” In man speak, this means “If you ask me 20 more times, I will say yes.”

The rest of the conversation went like this:

Midget Boy “I’ll stop coming to the gym if you come out for coffee with me.”

Me “No, really, I don’t think so.”

Midget Boy “I’m serious. I want to take you out for coffee.”

Me “No, really, I don’t think so.”

Midget Boy “When are you free this week.”

Me “Never. I have a very busy schedule, and I don’t want to.”

Midget Boy “I will be in the gym more often now. So I will ask you again next time I see you.”

Me “Please don’t. I don’t think it will happen.”

Midget Boy “I’m serious about taking you out for coffee.”

Me “I need to get back to cardio. Enjoy your night”

Midget Boy “Ok, next time we’ll talk about it again”.

Men- can you please tell me where I led him to believe that he had a chance after my first “no”?

I just got back from a week at home with my family who all live in the small towns in the prairies. This means that for a week, whenever I answered “no” to the “do you have a steady boyfriend yet” question, I got the pity look from my aunts. It’s some sort of travesty that I am turning 30 this year and am still alone.

I am happy being alone, so their pity looks don’t bother me at all. I don’t feel old, and I don’t feel that my clock is ticking. Whatever that means.

Yesterday, however, I got my first taste of how old I am perceived to be by others. Some guy from my gym, a regular, approached me. I’ve seen him there a million times before, but apparently, last night was the first time he’s ever seen me (blow #1). He chatted me up for nearly 1/2 an hour between my sets, complimenting my eyes, my form, my shirt, etc. Then, he asks “how old are you?” I tell him, and he blinks twice, and walks away.

…

If the guy looked older than 20, I would have been insulted. Luckily, my ego is bigger than anyone else I know and is pretty much impossible to squash.