Crushed by a woman, again

It’s always a woman who rips out your heart.

Can’t think of anything else that comes close.

And I don’t even know her name.


Forty years ago, I had an enjoyable dating life…never a great looking guy, I still moved confidently in a mixed crowd, and tapped heavily into the humor department.

It worked.  Had fun.

Today, a lot older, and too goddamn big.  Sense of humor still hanging around, but it needs a bit of assistance from other departments.


For the last few months, I have spotted a woman, early thirties, a bit hard edged, fabulous figure, who always works out at 5 pm at the YMCA.


Less confident me does a quick self assessment and feels less than wonderful about my chances with this lady.

But I still decide to tippy toe ahead, an inch at a time (this turtle speed approach comes back to slap the shit out of me).

Stop a few times and speak to her as she works out on the treadmill….nice, friendly exchange for about twenty seconds.


Then one day I am leaving and she comes up from behind me, and calls out to me.  And we step out to the parking lot and chat for about ten minutes.

Total positive….hmmmm, could miracles happen?

From what she says, she appears to be single  (she would go to see the Super Bowl at her brother’s house, alone).

So, over time, I occasionally continue  doing the old loser mating dance about her treadmill, but never have the nerve to kick up to the next level.

And then….


Two weeks ago, I am exercise biking behind her and a young man, very much the hip hop guy with pants hung low, swoops in.  His approach is total in your face….I can hear what he says, and he is incredibly shallow, stupid, and possession driven.  Slender with a very muscular upper body.  Loaded with tattoos.  Mid twenties.

I say a small prayer.  Please, don’t let her get sucked in by this loser.

Took a look at her face.

She was, absolutely, all in with this creep.  One hundred percent.

They continued talking as I let out a silent cry to her…’He is only here for the night, and then he will move on.’

She did not hear.  Or she probably was perfectly fine with anything up to, and including, a single night of pleasure.



They continue working out together, constantly talking, she constantly smiling, and then they walked the track for a long period of time.

And then they left, together….into the night.

Did they spend the night together?  No way of knowing.

Sure looked that way, though.


Move ahead two days.  She is back at the YMCA, and so is he.

Without question, he is dialed into her at a fifty percent lower level of attention.  He is polite, but much more physically distant.

She doesn’t see it.

I can’t help but see it.

Next night, and next night, and next…she is there, and he is nowhere to be seen.


Nameless girl walks by my bike a few times, and says hello.

I say nothing.

She double looks…more of the same (my inner 13 year old kicking in).

I go to great extents to avoid her glance, to make it obvious that I do not want to talk to her.

So stupid.  Just incredibly stupid.


Some tough realizations…a young woman may enjoy the tippy toe mating dance, but she also wants the occasional hard night of ripping sex with a worthy partner.  And no matter what this creep wasn’t, he sure looked the part of a worthy sex partner for any woman.


We usually don’t think of the YMCA as a sexual meat market…too family oriented.  That being said, sometimes a man and a woman, strangers, will make eye contact in the afternoon, and wind up vigorously fucking by the evening.

And that is a game for the young and the fit.

And sometimes, unfortunately, it plays out in full view of someone with a bit of a romantic interest in one of the players.

Pretty sure that is the situation here.

And baby, that sucks.



In such a situation, there is no happy ending.  Have to work out the punch in the stomach, get over it, and move on.  No other way to deal with this.

In a month or two, maybe I will write her an anonymous poem.

And leave it on her windshield.

But there’s one problem….

I have no idea what she drives.

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