A Builder Called Jim

I just came back from my gym, where I made friends with a 65-year-old retired builder called Jim. Our conversation started when I offered to wipe the bench press machine for him because of my sweat. He laughed and said there were no germs in this world that could kill him – and from there on he didn’t stop talking.

There was something very cute about him: whole head and face covered with cropped white hair. Thick tanned arms with tattoos. A bit of a belly, but muscles definitely beneath them. Strong legs. A guy in pretty good shape for his age.

He kept throwing complements my way – how trim I was, what a good runner I must be, how healthy I looked. I tried to pick up any flirting but it was hard – he just seemed like a genuine nice guy. He did mention a divorce, and that he lived alone. My ears perked up when he said that he liked to take showers at the gym after his work outs…

So now we know each other’s names and maybe we’ll bump into each other again. I’ll make sure next time I have a towel, soap, and time available to wait until he heads for the showers…

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