are old bootz! I was talking to a co-worker the other day about going to see a show in the city and their names came up and I just blurted out "...God is going to have to come and get those two bitches, cause they have made it very clear that they ain't going nowhere!..." What an awful thing to say! After all those two women have brought to this world in their art. I'm sorry dearhearts.
And New York Sports Club is such a mess. So... in my last audioblog I speak of the notorious happenings of certain NYSC's and how I'm nosey enough to want to take a gander. Oh how my faith was tested yesterday when I went to work out. There's this guy that lives in my neighborhood. A tall thin caucasion with bright eyes and long curly hair. Attractive. I've run into him online and at my favorite bodega. We cut eyes at each other and such. It's innocent.
I go into the gym yesterday and see him there for the first time, working out with a friend (I suppose). So... I'm keeping my composure enjoying myself, following my usual routine. I finish working on biceps and triceps and head of into one of the small matted rooms with mirrors to strech and do some abwork on the floor. As soon as I get comfortable and roll up my sleeves to visually measure the progress of my bicep, here he comes, right behind me. Now... this is the moment where I could have been gutter about it and allowed a convo or some sort of interaction take place, but my momma didn't raise me like that. So instead, I immediately turn my back to him, fall to the floor and begin my excercises, completely ignoring his presence, he does a few push-ups and leaves as quietly and quickly as he came.
Aww... Now I feel bad. Its that whole perception thing. I didn't want to seem like a stalker whore who would love to meet someone at the gym, but I also don't want to be all, I'm better than "that kind of thing".
Stoopid!! Stoopid!!
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