As I started up around the track yesterday afternoon, I was putting my hair up, focused on getting in a groove for an hour and going as far as I could. Hair secured out of my eyes, I looked up and noticed a guy on the floor below had completely stopped mid-exercise and was looking up at me.
Yeah, because I was looking so awesome. I was rocking an all-black outfit (slimming, you know) except for my shocking pink shoes, and my hair had that body and bounce that only comes from having not washed it yet. Plus, you know, the giant clip-chip thingy holding it all in a pile on top of my noggin.
Then, I noticed a second guy looking up at me. Just blatantly staring. I did a quick survey. Was I really wearing shorts, or had I somehow taken them off without realizing it? Ditto on the shirt. Toilet paper on my shoe? No, and they couldn’t see my shoe from the floor below . . .
I realized that almost every guy on the floor below (the track is suspended above the weight & cardio area) was staring up at me. Even as I rounded the bend at the end of the track, the guys on the other side had raised their eyes to watch.
Watch the TVs showing the final minutes of the Texans football game.
Our team won, which accounts for the stunned looks on all faces, and I continued my walk secure in the knowledge that everyone had gone back to looking at their own selves in the mirrors and reflective surfaces, ignoring me completely, as they had been all along.