odor of testosterone sweat mixed with body oil. He had reason to believe they lived at the gym, for he couldn’t recall a time he had come in when they weren’t there.
Both men were posing their formidable, jock-strap-clad physiques in front of the full-length mirrors. They were flexing various muscle groups hitherto unknown to Doug, despite his detailed knowledge of human anatomy. Neither was tall. Mule, at about five-foot-six, stood several inches taller than his white counterpart, Chowder. Both exhibited massively muscled bodies plus the thinning hair and acne associated with anabolic steroid use. Their conversation consisted of grunts and guttural noises pepperedwith several discernible expletives and punctuated with raucous laughter.
At times like these, Doug wondered about the evolution of the human race. Could this possibly be the same species that had produced the transistor, the microchip, airplanes, and space flight? No, scratch that. Was this the same species that came up with the wheel?
Out on the gym floor, Doug made his way to the bank of Stairmasters and climbed onto one of the empty ones. He programmed the Stairmaster to Pike’s Peak, entered his 180-pound weight, set the time and level, and began pumping away. This day would have to be an aerobics day; he only had about thirty-five minutes before he had to leave to take his middle son, Steven, to Cub Scouts. He immediately checked out the “scenery,” as the guys at Gold’s quaintly referred to the female members. When in Rome . . .
Until recently, Doug’s scouting sessions had been a harmless activity. Oh sure, there had been several occasions where he had gotten into trouble with his wife, Laura. Doug remembered one particular night when they had gone out for dinner and a drop-dead gorgeous blond sat down at the next table. She had on a very short, very tight, very low-cut dress. Doug tried mightily to look at his wife, but his eyes kept getting pulled off target as if drawn by a strong magnetic field. Laura didn’t say anything at first. After about twenty minutes, she glared at him and whispered hotly, “You’re making me real dizzy, Doug. Your eyes are bouncing back and forth so much I feel like I’m watching a damned ping-pong game. You better take a good look at those boobs over there, cause you sure aren’t gonna see any tonight!”
Doug scanned the gym, but didn’t see much of interest. His Stairmaster was squeaking a little as it relentlessly increased the pace, and he was beginning to breathe hard. Doug had learned to control his wandering gaze around Laura. He was genuinely sensitive to her feelings and didn’t want to offend her. He knew he had no real interest in these women; he just liked to look.
Over the past six months or so, a subtle change had seeped into their marriage. Communication was somehow more difficult. Laura seemed unhappy and even depressed. He never thought he’d see Laura like this; depressed just wasn’t in the equation for her. In fact, Doug remembered that Laura’s happy, bubbly personality was what had attracted him in the first place.
They had met while both attending Cornell at an ice hockey game. Hockey at Cornell was huge. It was a Division One sport and permeated every aspect of campus life. Doug had worked as an usher at the home games and had noticed her instantly. She came in with several of her girlfriends, but stood out as if a spotlight shone on her. What impressed him more than the way her silky black hair framed her pretty face, was her smile. Her face was transformed when she smiled, taking on an angelic glow. He couldn’t stop staring. What also got his attention was her laughter; it was so clean and genuine. She radiated such an aura of joy, she positively sparkled with the pleasure of life. He just had to get to know her. After several hockey games and some impressive small talk such as, “You can see better from these seats,” Doug finally mustered the courage to ask her out.
Both men were posing their formidable, jock-strap-clad physiques in front of the full-length mirrors. They were flexing various muscle groups hitherto unknown to Doug, despite his detailed knowledge of human anatomy. Neither was tall. Mule, at about five-foot-six, stood several inches taller than his white counterpart, Chowder. Both exhibited massively muscled bodies plus the thinning hair and acne associated with anabolic steroid use. Their conversation consisted of grunts and guttural noises pepperedwith several discernible expletives and punctuated with raucous laughter.
At times like these, Doug wondered about the evolution of the human race. Could this possibly be the same species that had produced the transistor, the microchip, airplanes, and space flight? No, scratch that. Was this the same species that came up with the wheel?
Out on the gym floor, Doug made his way to the bank of Stairmasters and climbed onto one of the empty ones. He programmed the Stairmaster to Pike’s Peak, entered his 180-pound weight, set the time and level, and began pumping away. This day would have to be an aerobics day; he only had about thirty-five minutes before he had to leave to take his middle son, Steven, to Cub Scouts. He immediately checked out the “scenery,” as the guys at Gold’s quaintly referred to the female members. When in Rome . . .
Until recently, Doug’s scouting sessions had been a harmless activity. Oh sure, there had been several occasions where he had gotten into trouble with his wife, Laura. Doug remembered one particular night when they had gone out for dinner and a drop-dead gorgeous blond sat down at the next table. She had on a very short, very tight, very low-cut dress. Doug tried mightily to look at his wife, but his eyes kept getting pulled off target as if drawn by a strong magnetic field. Laura didn’t say anything at first. After about twenty minutes, she glared at him and whispered hotly, “You’re making me real dizzy, Doug. Your eyes are bouncing back and forth so much I feel like I’m watching a damned ping-pong game. You better take a good look at those boobs over there, cause you sure aren’t gonna see any tonight!”
Doug scanned the gym, but didn’t see much of interest. His Stairmaster was squeaking a little as it relentlessly increased the pace, and he was beginning to breathe hard. Doug had learned to control his wandering gaze around Laura. He was genuinely sensitive to her feelings and didn’t want to offend her. He knew he had no real interest in these women; he just liked to look.
Over the past six months or so, a subtle change had seeped into their marriage. Communication was somehow more difficult. Laura seemed unhappy and even depressed. He never thought he’d see Laura like this; depressed just wasn’t in the equation for her. In fact, Doug remembered that Laura’s happy, bubbly personality was what had attracted him in the first place.
They had met while both attending Cornell at an ice hockey game. Hockey at Cornell was huge. It was a Division One sport and permeated every aspect of campus life. Doug had worked as an usher at the home games and had noticed her instantly. She came in with several of her girlfriends, but stood out as if a spotlight shone on her. What impressed him more than the way her silky black hair framed her pretty face, was her smile. Her face was transformed when she smiled, taking on an angelic glow. He couldn’t stop staring. What also got his attention was her laughter; it was so clean and genuine. She radiated such an aura of joy, she positively sparkled with the pleasure of life. He just had to get to know her. After several hockey games and some impressive small talk such as, “You can see better from these seats,” Doug finally mustered the courage to ask her out.
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