I have always encouraged people to listen to the words of wisdom our elders from the 1980's passed down. One of the greatest pieces of advice, which I imlore you to follow, is never to trust a big butt and a smile. Why? Poisonous.
Today I decided to check out Las Vegas' Athletic Club (LVAC) which is all of 3 minutes from my house. Evidently on the West coast everyone works out--unlike the Midwest where we sit on our rumps and eat comfort foods like chili, broccoli soup and beef stew. Besides, my 1/2 mile trek up Red Rock made it quite clear to my screaming bones that I am out of shape.
My plan was to tour the gym, get a feel for it, sign up for the free two week membership and ease my way back into a lifestyle of physical fitness. Then I met the tour guide,"Escobar Alejandro Luis Hernandez" (a pseudonym to protect the anonimity of the innocent). His rippling muscles and throbbing limbs beneath a thin sheath of quivering spandex are the two features that I noticed first. I swooned and clutched my metphorical pearls as he smiled, and a sparkle of white light shone from his upper molar.A glint of pure sexiness emanated from his almond colored eyes. I swear I saw a soft golden light behind this man when he first appeared. Hercules with a tan. Baby Zeus. Fabio without the crazy hair.
The rest of my remembrance is covered in a misty haze. My memory betrays me each time I try to remember what happened after his first smile and my last signature. All I know is that I evidently am now a member of LVAC, I have a personal trainer and monthly physical fitness checks.
*M*
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1 comment:
I know I'm late but that's hilarious.
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