Eye Candy

Last week I had this conversation with Sergeant after we were discussing nutrition and the need for protein after a workout.

Sarge: You know, it's best to work out in the morning.

Me: Oh really? Why?

Sarge: It just is.

Me: But why?

Sarge: That's when you get the best results.

Me: Yeah, but why? I'm a librarian -- I need more information than that.

Marina: You can't just say that and not back it up. We need references.

He rolled his eyes and started to walk away, which is what he does when he doesn't have an answer for something.

Me: You're going to make me look it up myself, huh? You think that's my job or something?

Sarge: Yep.

He did suggest I search on the Men's Health website, and I did find an article online that pertained to the benefit of working out before breakfast, while your body was in a fasting state, but I wasn't prepared to take this article's information as gospel, so I took it someone I trust.

While I was doing my workout, I asked a coach at my gym.

Me: Grace, I work with two muscle-y gym nuts, one more muscle-y than the other, but the other told me something recently that I have to ask you about. Is it true, in your opinion, that it's best to work out in the morning before breakfast, to burn the most pure fat while your body is in a fasting state?

Grace: Well...some people say that, but from what I understand, the difference in what you burn is not significant enough to...say...rearrange your entire schedule. As long as you work out, you're doing really well. They just say not to do it late at night because of the endorphins interfering with sleep.

Me: Okay, I figured he was just running at the mouth, not knowing what he was talking about. He does that. But he's cute, so I let him.

Grace: Ooooh, he's cute and he works out?

Me: Yeah, we have these two security guys, both really good looking, and whenever one of them works, I always feel like running into the director's office and thanking him for hiring them.

Grace: Hah! I thought you had a boyfriend!

Me: I do! But I'm not blind! I can appreciate some nice eye candy!

Grace: Eye candy?! You are so bad!

Me: Well they are! I don't want to date them! I just want them to move furniture for me, or bend over to pick things up all the time.

Grace: NIKKI! You crack me up! I'm going to have to come into your library to see this eye candy.

Me: You should. And be sure to drop things when you pass them. It's worth it.

We laughed. Locker room talk, you know.

Today I went back and Grace was there. I find her to be so much fun that I intentionally go when I know she works.

Again, while I was working out, we were yakking.

Grace: You know what's wrong with watermelon?

Me: Um, the seeds?

Grace: This is seedless. I only do seedless. But what's wrong with watermelon is it's mostly water. This isn't going to fill me. I'll need more of a snack than this before I do my own workout or else I'll pass out halfway through.

Me: Oooooooooooooh, paramedics! Do it, Grace! Paramedics are cute!

Grace: More eye candy for you?

Me: Uh-huh!

Grace: You're so bad!

Me: Uh-huh. So?

Grace: Are they all cute?

Me: Well, probably not, but enough are to make it worth it. You wouldn't have to pass out for real. You could pretend. I'll save you! I'll call the paramedics! Excuse me, Mr. Paramedic, I think she needs mouth-to-mouth. Rip open her shirt and do compressions!

Grace: AHHH! You're SO BAD!

Me: People keep saying that about me. I wonder why.

Grace: That's okay. It's why I like you so much.

Me: Okay, so, is it a deal? I'll be happy to call for you. Firemen are cute too, but, well, that's a felony.

Grace: We could have a cat up a tree!

Me: Or you could lock yourself in the bathroom! Hello, 911? Grace is trapped in a locked bathroom. Send firemen. And tell them to bring all their really big tools! And some paramedics in case she needs CPR.

Grace: That's great! Where else could we get eye candy from?

Me: Hmmm, well, there aren't any Gold's Gyms around here to run in and play the helpless woman, "Ah, help! We need someone to save a woman who is trapped on the bench press!"

Grace: Yeah, they're too far away. You know, the places I used to go to see eye candy are the places where you do 12-ounce curls.

She made the international gesture of downing a beer.

Grace: But the problem is that the bars you go to see the eye candy are usually too loud.

Me: And full of drunk, 20-year-olds. *eyeroll*

Grace: Yep, exactly. So, let's set our parameters on acceptable eye candy and then choose where to get it. Like, is there an age range?

Me: I don't discriminate. My boyfriend is in his late 50s.

Grace: REALLY? That's a big age difference. How much older is he than you?

Me: 24 years. He's the same age my dad was.

Grace: Ahhh, a sugar daddy!

Me: No, actually, I think it's more the other way around.

Grace: NIKKI! I'm surprised!

Me: Why? What's wrong with that?

Grace: Wait, does he have that nice gray hair?

Me: Yes, yes he does.

Grace: I LOVE men with gray hair!

Me: I KNOW! Silver foxes! They rock. But salt-and-pepper rules!

Grace: OH SO TRUE! You know what I like? When they start to go gray at the temples. That is so sexy! And when they wear a nice, crisp, white button-down shirt and a dark suit, black, maybe with a pinstripe, but definitely black. I love that! Salt-and-pepper in a black suit!

Me: Very nice. Honestly, I don't care what they're wearing, but the dark hair/light eyes combo gets me every single time. Bestill my heart!

Grace: Lemme think...yeah, that's really good too.

I began fanning myself.

Me: You know, I'm all sweaty, but I don't think it's from working out anymore.

We laughed.

Grace: Does anyone care about height?

Me: I do. He has to be at least as tall as me.

Grace: Okay, I don't care about height at all. What about weight?

Me: Don't care.

Grace: I prefer if they're average to built.

Me: Okay. I understand.

Grace: Anything else?

Me: Grown-up.

Grace: Yeah, some of these young guys look like they're kids dressed in adult clothes. I'm with you there.

Me: That's it for me. Eye candy has many flavors, shapes and colors. I don't have many preferences except the dark hair and light eyes combo and taller than me.

Grace: I used to work with this guy who had the salt-and-pepper thing going on, really nice looking, took care of himself, and he always wore these perfect dark suits. WOW! He was perfect. Men don't wear suits enough anymore. He just looked fabulous! He was a total asshole, but he looked great!

Me: That's usually how it works out, isn't it?

Grace: Yeah, but he was nice to look at. Total eye candy.

Me: That's fine. I'm not thinking long-term here. I'm thinking about 2 hours, baby. That's what I think about. I can put up with him being an asshole for 2 hours if the situation is right.

Grace just laughed, agreed, and laughed some more.

There were two other ladies at the gym working out, having to listen to us go on and on. One was my age and laughing along, cheering us on. The other was a woman probably 15-20 years older than me, and she was clearly not enjoying the conversation. That's fine. I can't even count how many times I've gone in and had to listen to other women, including this one, working out and bitching about Obama/healthcare/government assistance programs, discussing childbirth or menopause in gory detail, or being so lazy that they just sit at the machines and talk instead of doing anything. She could suffer through this today as partial payment for her own infliction of discomfort.

Grace left to answer the phone and I finished up and changed clothes.

As I was walking out I waved.

Me: Don't pass out without me here, Grace.

Grace: I won't! Practice that eye candy oogling.

Me: I will.

Grace rocks. All the coaches there rock, but Grace is the most fun. Man, I totally picked the right gym to join. Sometimes my instincts are so spot-on, it's scary.