This morning in the gym, as I was just about to do my shoulder workout, I noticed an unattended backpack in the corner. Calculating that it was highly unlikely that someone would try to blow up the base gym—the Sergeant Asan Akbars of the world notwithstanding--I did my set. As I was about to do another, however, a cell phone inside the backpack started ringing. I dropped my weights and backed away from the bag quickly (as if I still wouldn’t be literal toast were the pack to blow up right then).
As I was headed toward the emergency exit, I could, in those few seconds, see the looks of alarm on the faces of the other gym patrons. Finally, after an eternity (about five seconds), a heavily muscled Army guy says, “it’s mine! Sorry about that.”
Muscle head! I left minutes later, just in case he changed his mind.
UPDATE: Just minutes ago, a whack-job girlfriend of a male friend of mine called here wanting to know if I was have sexual relations with her boyfriend. The answer was a truthful and an....um...emphatic no.
Wow! I haven't had fun stuff like that happen in years! I'm feeling young.
It's a good day.
