How pathetic this man is. Every morning I see him take the elevator up to the gym, where he spends at least an hour, like a hamster in its wheel, on the treadmill, until his personal trainer arrives. He has all the right clothes, the little gadgets, the sensors, the iPhone, the cool headphones. He is staying with us for a while until he finds a home.
When his trainer arrives, it's all he can do not to fall over himself with excitement. He eyes the man's pecs (impressive, it must be said), which strain his shirt across his chest, with interest. When the trainer turns around to grab one of his many implements, our little guest's eyes dart to his buttocks. They chat aimlessly about all the women that they have ogled in the past days, and the women with whom they scored.
Is it all about the body? Is our guest aspiring to achieve the same buttocks, the same pecs? Or is there more to it? Would it be a case of 'hello boys' in the shower room?
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I'm in doubt: 'hello boys' could refer to the Wonderbra campaign or refer to the spreading of the legs while either performing a handstand or sitting midair on straightened arms by male gymnastics.
ReplyDeleteIn any case, I find it all very impertinent what's going on in that gym of your hotel.
Well, Sir, you are free to find other accommodations that are more suitable to your requirements. We will be very sad to see you go, though. We aim to please. So please, don't be a stranger.
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