Gym

9.45am

I’m on the treadmill, as I write this. I got to the gym early, isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Get it over and done with, you know, that's how it is.

It was gonna ride the exercise bike, but I couldn’t. There was a couple of old slags on them already. He looks 72, with no hair, she looked 100 kg, with masses of hair. Ha ha.

I'm listening to Miley Cyrus.

10.10am

Anyway, now I’m done and I’m beginning to sweat and I need to go and do weights so wish me luck.

A cute/ugly guy with an oddly shaped head that is weirdly appealing, arrives to use the other treadmill, just as I head upstairs.

There are a lot of guys upstairs dressed in black, except for one guy who has pink shorts on, he kind of looks out of place. Not because they are pink, but because everyone else is in black.

Leg press first, but I suspect it might be the exercise putting my back out, so I substitute Lateral pulldown.

I do the seated row, and another guy is doing that reverse cable pull down and he bents over completely right in front of me and practically sticks his taint on my tongue.

Seated with dumbbells, that’s no way to refer to my fellow gym goers. Boom, boom!

Goblet squats. Why do I picture turkeys, or glory holes, I don’t know?

Chest press. It’s the exercise that reminds me of gay bars the most.

Cable pull down. Does it get gayer than this? White cords in boardies come to mind.

A cute guy with a beefy arse arrives.

I’m now listening to the Teskey Brothers.

I do TRX lunge. The cute boy with the beefy are is on the floor in front of me lying in a pool of sunlight coming in the window, in his tight white singlet, stretched across his great chest. He has his hairy legs bent up just so. And before I have finished throwing my leg back, he is doing downward facing dog stretches right under my nose.

10.45am. I’m finished. That's it, I'm done

I’m going home to rewrite my poems. I bet none of the others are going home to do that.

The sun is shining outside when I head out to the street.