SH caught reading People. "Everyone wants to know what's happening with Britney," he said defensively.
What I forgot to tell you -
This morning, during my step aerobics class, the one with the horrible awful music, although not as bad as what is to be found in the Gather hymnal, I had to leave for my trip #2 to the Ladies, a break that always makes me wonder if I am the only person in the class who has two cups of coffee before coming or if I am the only one with a bladder the size of a walnut, which reminds me that if I ever have plastic surgery, it's not going to be on my bosoms, although they could sure use some help,* it's going to be enhancing my bladder so I can go longer than 20 minutes before having to get rid of a latte or a diet Dr Pepper.
On the way to the bathroom, I stopped in the big exercise room, the one with the stationary bikes and the free weights and the sweaters and the grunters to see what magazines were there. Usually, it's boring stuff: Golf and hunting and AARP and Style. Except for Style, it's the same selection to be found at Boucher BMW, even though I have pointed out to the management there not once but three times that three of the four people in the repair waiting room are women and 47 of the 48 magazines on the repair waiting room table are about sports, fishing, hunting, or golf. Do they not know that women make 75% of the automobile purchasing decisions in this country? Why are they not trying to keep their women customers happier? ALL I'M ASKING FOR IS A DANG PEOPLE OR US WEEKLY!
It's not like I can read them at the grocery store any more because the checkers here are too darn fast, plus I use the self check at Pick 'n Save, even though the stupid machine won't let me select "I brought my own bag" without an assist from the self-check clerk and she's always busy scanning someone's coupons. Oh, yeah, they didn't think that people would try to cheat on the coupons so they didn't program the self checker properly. They should have hired me to design the system. Always plan for the worst.
Today I got lucky. The most recent issue of People was sitting on top of the pile! I grabbed it and returned to class. I need something to read between step and body pump. It's not like those 15 minutes are going to kill themselves.
Fortunately, I had missed most of the abdominals. You know. Because I have a six pack already and don't need the work.
But my mat was gone. I had grabbed it before I left the room and put it over my step.
The woman next to me had it. Mat stealer! I glanced over at the mat stack to see if there were any more red ones because I would rather be on the bare floor than use a black mat or a blue one. The black mats are grody and the blue ones are too slick. The red are newer than the black mats but older than the red mats, so they have the perfect amount of weathering to keep them from sliding all over the place.
But there were no more mats. Not even undesirable mats. The Mat Stealer must have taken my mat because there was a sudden mat shortage.
What to do? Start reading the magazine now while the rest of the class finished their pushups? I could weather the glares of disapproval from the teacher because I don't wear my glasses when I exercise and so she would be invisible to me.
Then the Mat Stealer saw me. Looked contrite. Started to get up.
"No no!" I insisted. "I'm fine!" I plopped to the ground and did some real pushups (not girl pushups - I can do about five real ones while people are watching then have to switch to the sissy ones as soon as they look away) to prove it to her.
She shrugged. Fine with me. I had still come out ahead in the exchange: a new People magazine for only 1/3 of the abs session and the loss of a mat.
* The radiologist was so pleased that she got my pecs in the shots she took for my mammogram last week but really, it's not that hard to do under certain conditions, if you know what I mean. But to her credit, she warmed her hands before touching my half-nekkid body and she called me "Ms Factotum" rather than "Class," which I always appreciate because if there is not going to be any physical distance between a medical professional and my lady parts, either upper or lower, I at least want some psychic distance.