Gym Sighting: The Casual Powerlifter
There he was, doing 605-pound squats for reps, like he was Derek Poundstone or something. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him…and I was caught a couple times staring. Embarrassing.
He had this amazing squat belt. Four or Five inches wide, leather, with an oversized buckle. It just oozed hyper masculine powerlifter…I had to have it. Cautiously, I approached him and squeaked out a question, asking him where he got his belt and if he was a “pro” lifter.
The belt was a Titan Toro, and he was a casual lifter. Or, as he explained “I was bored and now I’m lifting, like, upwards of 600 pounds.” He’s doing reps of a weight I max-out on. Sigh! Slash fiction time:
“Oh, I was just bored,” he lied, casually bouncing his pecs as he recovered from his last set. Brian Shaw was no amateur lifter, and if it weren’t for his clever bleached-blond disguise, this kid would probably recognize him for the WSM-competitor that he used to be.
Kid had some legs on him…with the right training he could be a huge asset to team America, maybe even lift his way to a title at Fortissimus.
“You lifting tomorrow?” He asked, his piercing stare made the Filipino-mutt gulp and look down before nodding Yes. “Perfect,” Brian grinned, “maybe I’ll run into you, watch your form.”
I’m house sitting for my Mom, so I’ve got internet. Which is great, because I needed to post this gym sighting. His form was horrible, he never re-racked his weights, but he had these big muscles which made me ignore all that. Slash fiction time:
Despite his short stature and puny size, Ryan knew the Filipino/Dutch kid was a seasoned lifter. His big give-away was the way he lip-synced the Moto Blanco remix of Paparazzi: by doing 80-pound curls in time with the beat.
Ryan knew exactly how to get this guy’s attention. Poor form and never racking weights…pet peeves to anyone thatserious about working out.
He could feel the Pinoy kid’s anger grow with each lousy rep…hopefully he’d be annoyed enough to come over and show correct form. Then Ryan would have the perfect chance to give him his phone number.
Ugh, I hate it when people don’t rack their weights! Or when they yell really loud! Ugh! So annoying!
Like a deadly peacock flaring it’s feathers before attacking it’s prey, Adam puffed out his chest as he sauntered across the gym. Most of the gym bunnies were impervious to his size, but the paralyzing effect of his beefyness was obvious on the Filipino mutt doing abs.
“Finish him,” Adam grinned, waddling with his massive thighs as he went in for the kill. “Hi, I’m Adam.” He said with unfaltering eye contact and a bounce of his pecs.
“Buhhhhh…” A direct hit. The scrawny gym kid was captivated by the mass standing before him. Now Adam just had to drag him home.
Oh, Ginger Daddy. I see you at Gold’s Castro every day. He’s been on my gym sighting queue for months…and today, I saw his beautiful back tattoo and was suddenly inspired to move him to the front.
I’m posting a little late, so I’m a little drained to write slash for Ginger Daddy.
Ideas?
Oh boy oh boy oh boy…do I have a gym sighting for you!
He was easily the biggest guy in the gym, completely captivated my attention as he walked in slow motion from machine to machine. When my workout ended, he followed me to the locker room to tell me that he loved my blog. I’m pretty sure I was drooling and making whimpering noises until he waddled away.
Now for some much needed slash.
“It’s…impossible,” Jean eyed the skinny Filipino/Dutch kid skip across the gym, his resemblance to Jean’s favourite vanity-blogger was uncanny: Noodles and Beef. Or, better known to Jean as the man of his dreams.
Stuck in San Francisco for a layover, Jean had completely forgotten that this was Dylan-territory. His heart beat quickly…perhaps he’d finally get a chance to tell the blogger how he felt. “Shoot, there he goes,” Jean dropped his weights and quickly followed the lithe pinoy into the locker room, adrenaline pumping through him.
“Hey!” Great start, he thought to himself, assuming a commanding 12” height difference, “You…” he trailed, stopped in his tracks by Dylan’s vacant mutt face, “You’re Noodles and Beef, right? I-I love your blog!” Suddenly embarrassed, he ran out of the locker room.
Sigh. If only. Gym Sighting guy, should you read this, know that I just make this slash up because it’s funny to make fun of myself online.
I took some artistic liberties, like how I liberated him from his clingy t-shirt.
What is a Silver Muscle Daddy? It’s what Silver Fox Anderson Cooper would look like if he were a bodybuilder. Which is exactly what Eric looks like.
I almost don’t think he knows how *strong* he is. Both times I’ve met him he’s crushed me against his chest…kinda hot.
I hope you guys don’t mind the purple…playing around with some not-so-warm colours.
