---------------------------------
It was his bloody
fault. Alan. Always into something for nothing so when he saw the
offer he says to me
'There you go, new
years resolution let's have a go.'
A Gym. I ask you a
Gym.
What do I want with a frigging Gym? I might not be fit but I'm not
fat and the only time I need to break into a trot is when I'm late
for the bus. 'Come on' he says, 'try it for the free week and
we'll
just have a laugh. Gentle stroll on the treadmills and watch all
the
birds working out.' He was always more of a letch than me.
So we turned up, got
the pep talk from some muscle brained steroid advert and took to
the
treadmills. Only five minutes in and Alan's weighing up the talent
giving it his usual would, wouldn't and maybe after a few pints
when
he says 'That ones giving you the eye'. I'm looking around and
can't
see who he's on about. 'No that one, over there on the skiing
thingy,
the older one'.
I'll admit to a slight
feeling of panic. Women don't smile at me these days unless it's
across a counter and accompanied by 'dear' or even worse 'grandad'
but she was. I smiled back and she came over and got on the
treadmill
next to me.
'Hello , haven't seen
you before. New Years resolution?'
'Sort of, he dragged
me
along for the free week, course I don't really need it'
Straight
back
to eighteen and bragging in front of women. Why do we do it.
'No
you
look fit enough to me.'
I
just had time to realise I could still blush when the pain in my
arm
stopped me. It hurt from all the nudge, nudge and 'You're in
there'
from Alan the other side of me.
'Come
on'
she says 'I'm just going to do a gentle three miles. Keep up and
you can buy me a drink afterwards.'
That
should
have been my cue to gently bow out and make up some excuse
about an old injury but macho took over. I lasted about a mile I
think, I even managed a sideways smile or two. Then the lights
went
out.
'Does
he
have to poke about in my insides like that.'
Well it's difficult
do a post mortem otherwise.
'Yes
but
he's not exactly being delicate about it and he's whistling away
like a bloody butcher preparing tripe.'
You're not going to
need any of it anymore.
'So
is
this it? I mean is this what comes after?'
That rather depends
on you and whether you think you can let go and move on.
Oh!.......
Maybe
I'll stick around for a while and haunt that bastard Alan.
