Tatiana Talks

Trainers are the New Bartenders

As I mentioned in passing a couple of weeks ago, I am trying to lose some weight. In addition to cutting back on the wine, I've also been exercising.

So, a week ago I am in a class, trying to focus on rowing at an 80 percent threshold – whatever that means – when the instructor (or coach as he prefers to be called) came up to me and asked if I was a rower.

I responded I used to be.

He responded, “I can always tell a rower. It’s the dedication and focus on your face.”

What? I had so many thoughts jump to the tip of my tongue, but then I remembered I was supposed to be at 80 percent and I couldn’t remember when Women’s Health told me I should be able to hold a conversation but I was pretty sure it was something less than 80 and so instead I smiled weakly and continued rowing.

Then this week I was again in a class with this coach, again worrying about whether or not I was giving it my 80 percent, when he approached me. He looked at my numbers, smiled, made another strange comment – this time about my personality – and walked away.

Now, as terrible as I am at flirting, I am even worse at recognizing when someone is doing it to me. Still, as I climbed up the simulated hill, I couldn’t shake the feeling this guy was.

But that didn’t make sense. I wasn’t wearing any make-up, I was sweating and wearing spandex that did nothing to hide any of my squishy parts. Still, stranger things have happened. Climbing got a little easier as I contemplated whether or not I wanted to make-out with my trainer. He’s cute in that I obviously work for a gym sort of way, he has crazy muscular arms, and that D’Angelo v-thing going on. He’s not quite 6 feet tall, but I can slide him under the Jason Statham Exception but just as I decide it would happily make-out with him, I spy him flirting with a woman on a treadmill directly across from me.

A little while later, he was back at my side, this time touching me and asking me, “do you feel that?” I understand correcting my form is part of his job, but whispering seductively into my ear (that is how I remember it)?

And that is when it hit me. It is part of his job. If he wants to keep his job – and by keep his job I mean keep clients like me coming back to his class – he flirts a little with the women. We think he actually likes us, that there could be something there, and keep coming back for more, essentially paying him to flirt with us until one day we discover he is married with three kids. Or gay.

He’s just like a bartender, but with lunges instead of lagers.

Now, I do have a rule prohibiting crushes on bartenders, however I don’t think I will write the same rule here. One, crushes in general are pretty fun and healthy and two, a crush on your trainer is extra healthy as it keeps you going to the gym.

Unlike a crush on a bartender that only keeps you drinking until way past last call.

Open Letter to the Hot Guy in My Office

Dear Hot Guy in My Office,

As you know from your life of looking in mirrors and women behaving silly around you, you are hot; ridiculously so. If it seems like it is hard for me to look at you, it is because it is. You are that damn handsome and I am afraid of what will happen if I make eye contact. The last thing I want to do is become another silly woman.

Now, before you start to worry that this letter is a really lame attempt to ask you out, let me assure you it’s not. 1) You are much too good looking for me. 2) I know you have a girlfriend. 3) We work together and I have a rule about that, and 4) (and this is probably the most important one and should have gone first) I have just completed the outline of my “Single For Life” tattoo and it would be really expensive to have it removed. Not to mention a total waste of some very artistic lettering.

Still the possibility of me becoming a total moron around you looms large and with the recent elevator incident (I didn’t mean to flirt with you, it just sometimes happen), I feel drastic measures need to be taken on both our parts. I need you to think I am smart and competent. I would like you to respect me.

Now, I know I can’t ask you to be less attractive – I don’t think you could if you tried, I mean you even look good in plaid. However, I was able to come up with a list of things you can do that I think would improve our situation dramatically:

1) Stop wearing your glasses. I don’t care if you are hungover and trying to hide blood shot eyes. Your horn-rimmed glasses that make you look like Clark Kent are like Kryptonite to this Super Girl’s will power. Perhaps in the new year you can resolve to drink less and thus lessen your need for your glasses.

2) Stop standing directly outside my office, talking about how interesting you are to our co-workers. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to refrain from joining those conversations? I saw the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo this weekend too. I have thoughts about it. But I stayed in my office with my mouth shut because I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. If you really must share with our co-workers all the fun things you did this weekend, IM them. Or send them an email. Or wait until I am in a meeting. Just stop talking to them right outside my office.

3) Stop cursing. You are a really great curser which I know probably sounds like a strange compliment, but as someone that has always sounded too crass when I say any curse word, I really admire the ability in others to sound forceful but not trashy. When you curse, it sounds hot, and that isn't good.

Things you may feel free to continue doing are shamelessly flirting with the older women in the office and talking about your diet.

In return for any or all of these concessions, I will continue to avoid talking to you, looking at you, and engaging you in any way. This morning was a moment of weakness, and don’t anticipate it happening again.

I hope you have a wonderful and healthy new year.

Yours,

Tati