Another beginning

Warning: Herewith follows the ramblings of a smug cunt, proceed at your own risk. Bring the sick bag, use the gun as you wish.

I've sat down, having just got in.

A few hours ago I was standing in the gym change-room in a towel. Getting dressed at the bench opposite is a young blonde turk, cute with a great body. He looks at me and I glance back but then find fascination with something else.

He looks at me again, I glance back at him. And again. His staring is making me a little nervous so I put on the straightest swagger I can muster to go and get a tissue to wipe my nose. On the way back he looks at me again.

"Don't you have somewhere to go to?"

I think "fuck, he thinks I'm cruising him. Fuck. And he's straight and I am really not... Shit." Me, completely defensively; "I don't know what you're talking about - I'm about to go home..."

Now doing aggro-straight; "and what are you trying to say?" He, almost apologetically, "sorry, no I... don't worry."

I leave it at that and wait for him to leave. Outside the door of the gym he is standing, playing with his phone. I walk out and don't even glance at him. But this is weird so I stop a few metres from him and pull my phone out of my bag to play with.

And then he walks on ahead. About 20 feet down the pavement he turns around to look at me and flicks his head for me to come over. Fuck... does this really mean what I think it does?

I catch up with him. He puts his hand out and I shake it.

"Sorry, the words didn't come out my mouth like they should have. I meant; 'if you've got nothing to do, would you like to go somewhere.'"

Me, amused and somehow getting all the words in the right order; "oh, right..! I didn't know what you meant. Listen, no-one has ever been quite that direct with me in the gym. Sorry, I was just completely taken aback..."

His voice drops "sorry, yeah I saw you and thought I would just ask because it didn't look like it was going to work any other way and I would be kicking myself if you got away. So would you like to do something?"

"Mate, I am flattered and because you did it so confidently, I have such respect. Really, that is a first.

"Does that mean 'no' then?"

"Does it fuck? Mate how could I ever say 'no' to the confidence that you plucked up to ask me. So your place or mine?"

"Well my parents are away..."

21 years old, at University and lives with his (wealthy, it seems) parents who're on holiday. We spent a good solid hour and a half doing interaction work.

Afterwards I am lying and looking at the ceiling. "Is everything okay, you seem distracted."

"No, I just suddenly thought "what the fuck am I doing here... this was never in my work-out schedule!" We laugh.

So there. I cannot fucking believe it.

My first interaction as a 30 year old and he was 21. And he picked me up at the gym.

I decide to walk home because it's not that far. iPod on, I stick on a little ditty by Marilyn Manson; "The Reflecting God", from his Last Tour on Earth CD.

And Manson sings....

Die, shoot, shoot motherfucker!
Shoot! Shoot! Shoot motherfuckers...

Young scum, can you feel my power?
Shoot! Shoot! Shoot motherfuckers...

Young, scum can you feel my power?
Shoot! Shoot! Shoot motherfuckers...
While Mr Manson spits and screams into my ear I gently smile to myself.

I will probably see him at the gym again. He was hot. He had a sixpack. Perhaps we might do it again. The first interaction of my 30s, of the new leaf, of the new me.

This is how I hoped these years would be. I know, I know! It's just casual. Whatever.

I sacrifice those who've been before tonight, all on the altar of learning.

My life began at 30. So far so good. Let's call him Gareth.