Just call me The Village Tricycle, GIF Edition

To say that I’ve never been hit on or propositioned would be a fallacy. There was that time in Surrey Hills in Sydney where an older gentlemen asked me if I might comb his hair for him. I also have the unfortunate, uncanny and disappointing talent for being hit on by people already in relationships.

The most recent example happened at gym the other week. After a glamorous and sweat-free workout I caught out a gentleman looking at me from across the room. It was a weird surprise, namely because a) he was incredibly attractive, and b) I looked like Fergie onstage a la that time she wet herself at the superbowl. It was pretty much that scene from Sex and the City. It’s official, I am Miranda. I did the regular thing you do when trying to confirm and respond to eye-fucking. I discreetly fixed my hair, wet my lips and prepared my hair cape for a bit of


And in case you were wondering, his reaction was similar to the man in sunglasses floating around Hyosung above. So much so that post-workout he came and introduced himself to me and there was that weird kind of electricity you get from meeting someone new who is so forward, the kind that you would only see in a 90’s Meg Ryan movie (remember her? Neither do I) Through the stilted conversation and general staring it was very clear that if we were characters in a bad erotic fiction writer’s short story, a bed would suddenly appear from the canopy and things would have thunged. In your head it all feels so certain and sexy, but you just know, upon reflection to an outsider it would pretty much look like

Not getting ahead of myself, I took off my bridal gown and and gave him a smile and went on my way. My new regime of playing it cool was working so well I was essentially the iceberg that sunk the titanic. The next week I was conveniently at the gym at the same time, under the impression that people who go to the gym have ‘times’ (amongst other weird habits like ‘steroids’ they might have) and through neurotic logic I managed to have correctly assumed that he would be at the gym at the same time, the same day, the next week. You may call me Sherlock.

So I was doing my thang in my section of the gym, his personal trainer had decided to set up two stations in the area that I was working out in. WINNING COINCIDENCE OF THE CENTURY AM I RIGHT?. It would be pointless to deny that I didn’t modify my workout accordingly.

Then came the moment when his personal trainer began asking him about his boyfriend and where he has been lately. He just laughed a bit nervously as I turned around like

This is not the first time this has happened, I will admit in my younger days I entertained the thought, and some people even convinced me that it didn’t matter that they were involved with someone. Oh to be young (*cough* 2-3 years ago *cough*). In my mind, it went something along the lines of, “OMG they are flirting with me? OMG but they have a boyfriend? That’s okay! That just means that they like me more, I mean CLEARLY, and one day, they’ll break up with them and I’ll be the Mary”

Luckily I think I only acted on one of these retarded impulses, and have matured to form this new mantra aimed directly at individuals who are in relationships who seek to fuck around with people. You do not get to be in a relationship and enjoy the only thing we singles get to enjoy, which is endless pointless flirtation with the possibility of advancement to meaningless and awkward sex. It’s unfair and not okay. Okay? Okay.

It got me thinking about people in open relationships, I’m just going to go ahead and assume that’s the situation. It breaks my heart to much to imagine his boyfriend at home like this

It’s like why even bother committing yourself to someone if all you’re going to do is look for romantic interest outside of the relationship? I’ve come to the unreasonable conclusion that these people are selfish, and either get off on the attention or are the kind of people who quite simply, just can’t be alone. At least this mantra helps me attempt to believe I’m normal and not some kind of weird Gnarler-Attracter.

What’s that? Maybe don’t read so much into interactions at the gym? Point taken.

I will leave you with a final GIF that accurately portrays my matured feelings towards this situation both conceptually and physically

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