Freaks Flock Together and Make All the B-Boys Scream

I've been going to the gym a lot more lately to both increase my endurance for Rollerderby and to tone my abs so that my bikini (only the second one I've ever owned in my life) isn't laughable.

Many of you who know me know that I have a strange relationship with the gym. I like working out, and I like checking myself out in the mirror. I also like when I notice other people checking me out, and frankly, I check other people out. For all that eyeballing, I don't want anyone to actually talk to me.

There's this one guy there who must be 100 years old who hits on me every time I'm there. Okay, so he's not 100, but he's got to be at least 54, and 54 is damn close to 100, am I right? This particular fellow is annoying largely because he always indicates that I should remove my earbuds (usually when I'm listening to The Coup and I'm in the middle of breaking the rap down in my head [I sound so GOOD when I rap in my mind]) to listen to him yammer while I'm trying to get my sweat on. Being frosty hasn't worked, ignoring him hasn't worked (he simply taps my arm to get my attention).

I have a friend who has begun to go to the gym with me, and while I'm happy about this for many, many reasons, one of the biggest is that he's helpful in keeping the riffraff away. The friend has Okay to Touch Dirty Girl priveleges, as well as an impressive command of very deliberate eye-rolling. This means that if someone (like Annoying 100-Year-Old) is trying to talk to me, one touch on the the back from my friend sends all kinds of confusing signals about my availability. Then I get the added bonus of openly laughing at eye-rolling immediately after.

If you think this is cruel of me, don't blame me. I recently got "Dangerous Liasons" via Netflix, and it might be bringing out my inner demons. Okay, so the inner demons might have already been "out" but I'm sure the charming horror that is John Malkovich as Vicomte Sébastien de Valmont isn't helping my niceness...