She minces no words.

Dont Mince Words

My trainer, my pimp

Posted on July 12, 2004 by Marna

You know what I don’t have in my dating story repetoire? I don’t have a I-met-a-guy-at-the-gym story. I actually don’t know anyone who does. I mean, I look my worst at the gym: uneven rub-on tan on the exposed infrequently shaven calves, an unsupportive sport bra that mashes my boobs to mid-gut, smeared mascara, red face, and sweat rings around my neck and armpits. I have that general I’m not here to look pretty aura about me.

So what do I do? I tell my trainer that I think the guy who has an appointment before me is cute. And he doesn’t look like he’s from LA (that meaning he seems normal and emotionally available).

My Pimp Trainer spreads the word.

Interest is noted.

Phone number is passed.

The deed is forgotten…

until today when he called 2.5 weeks after the initial pimp out. He’s a man and he called. Date next week.

I think I’ll do a few extra sit ups.

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  • About Marna

    Marna’s writing career started as a Pentagon intern. Early exposure to $500 toilet seat press releases made her appreciate creative nonfiction. Now she has more than 25 years of senior-level marketing and communications success working with Fortune 100 companies, government, nonprofits, small businesses, startups, and agencies.

    Stats: 377 Posts, 132 Comments

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