Today while Casey was at dance class I went on over to the gym. I hopped on my treadmill, began jamming out to some Widespread and surveyed the people around me. The man next to me was running like a gazelle. I have no hope of ever having such form, grace or speed. There was an older gentleman doing some kind of leg contraption where he was lifting a good 3 tons. And then I noticed that the manager was giving a tour of all the gym offerings to some poor new soul that had just joined. He was fully engrossed in what she had to say. His eyes did not wander around the gym the way that mine did/do. So, since he wasn't paying any attention, I took this as an invitation to stare at him. There was nothing that really made this guy stand out - mid 30's, receding hair line, little belly, dress shoes, nice khaki pants, dress shirt and a matching brown leather belt. Really just average. But there was something about him that seemed familiar. So I continued to stare trying to match him with a face in my memory bank.
So he filled out forms, I continued on my going no where path and then we left about the same time. I went out the member door on the side, he went out the guest door in the front. And then he was there, asking me where the stairs were and I remembered. We went to high school together. So we had this conversation...
Me: Do I know you? You look really familiar.
Man: Actually you look familiar to me to.
Me: Did you go to Berkmar?
Man: (face lights up) Yeah! I did. What's your name?
Me: Angie. Are you one of the Smith* brothers?
Man: Yes! I graduated in 94.
Me: Right. You had a brother in my class...class of 96.
Man: Wow. Did we ever hang out? (questioning look on his face)
Me: We ran in the same circles. (remember this for later)
Man: So you live out here?
And the conversation continued for a few more minutes and then he went on his merry way and I picked Casey up from dance.
Now, about the part that I told you to remember in the conversation....When he asked me if we hung out...Well, I remembered. I remembered that a group of us went to a gigantic field party (long, long ago...a good 15, 16 years ago) and there was some things that shouldn't be in a field, in that particular field on that particular night, along with about 200 of our closest friends. And he was standing next to me when 6 squad cars showed up and so we went (with maybe 4 other people) and hid in the floorboards of his Ford Probe. We stayed there for about 2 hours popping our little heads up every now and again to watch the cops perform breathalyzers on our *friends* and then take them away. I was terrified. My mother was out of town. I was spending the night at a friend's house and I didn't think it would go over very well to have to call my stepdad from jail. So I crouched down on the floorboards of this kid's car praying for it to all go away. And now here he is (my savior for that one evening 16 years ago) looking all responsible and... old (receding hair line, pot belly, matching shoes and belt) and how do I say that to him? You saved me one night when I was young and stupid and you spared my parents the drama of having me call from jail. And now, you really don't look like that kid in my memory - thin,with baggy jeans and converse...a full head of hair.
But then again, although it is hard for me to admit, I am sure that I really don't look like I did when I was in high school either. I'm sure I look like a woman in her 30's - with 3 kids and a minivan, so I really shouldn't talk about him.
So this was the story of my encounter at the gym today. The End.
*name changed to protect the innocent. If you were there that night and read my blog, please don't give it away. Thank you.
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