Approximately four hours later, I proved ALL of those things with one sentence.
Last night, I walked into my apartment gym and as I was getting on the last open treadmill, the guy next to me started to get off his.
Talking to people at the gym – especially the small apartment gym – is awkward, but I had something to say, so I politely waited until he disconnected his earbuds from the TV on the tread.
Who AM I? (Please note that one of my worst habits is being the one laughing the hardest at my own jokes, so there was no real mistaking the intention behind the challenge and he laughed too.)
Now, was he getting off his treadmill because…
A. He was done
B. He WAS afraid he was going to lose to a girl (perhaps one of those times when girl is appropriate?)
C. The treadmill I had jumped on was broken and he was gallantly giving his up to me
Little bit of column A, little bit of column C. Oops. Not so much B because his time killed mine, but hey, I’m running through an injury here!
I’ve always thought that my cuteness interferes with people hearing my message (well, always after I heard that quote on HIMYM), but perhaps my abrasive, ball busting way of flirting interferes with men seeing my cuteness? Ah, clarity.