Dear boys at the gym,
I have to say, you all have very nice bodies. The blond's abs could use some work, but you both have shoulders and arms to die for. Brown-haired dude might want to watch his form on the deadlifts, though. You're just asking for an injury, man.
What? You didn't think I noticed you?
Lads, every wall in the weight room is a floor to ceiling mirror. I assure you, I noticed.
Which means I also noticed the way you two were looking at me. And I noticed Blond's smirk. And noticed Brown's incredulous look, eyeroll, and sarcastic laugh. Kinda hard to miss, you know?
I know you don't see too many girls in here that aren't already fit and ogle-worthy, but really, would it kill you to at least pretend not to notice? Or pretend not to be quite so amused by it? I mean, it's not like I don't know. Those mirrors make sure I know exactly why I'm here to begin with, so I really don't need any more negative reinforcement than what I have looking back at me every time I glance at my reflection.
I'm sorry we can't all be flawless, size zero eyecandy. I mean, really. The nerve of someone like me going to a fitness center -- where people go to lose weight -- when I'm not already slim and perfect. How absurd!
Tell you what: you keep your eyes on your own workout, or at least keep your reactions to yourself, and I promise I won't look at your crotch, meet your eyes, snicker to myself, and walk away. Deal?
The Fat Chick in the Weight Room