I have shared here about select experiences I have had at the gym… I have been called solid. I have been asked if I was an aerobics instructor. I have shared ill-placed equipment stories…
And now… well… I can say I have raised eyebrows, as well.
Picture this:
A thirty-none-of-your-business year-old mother of three… Making her way through a narrow hall to the childcare room to retrieve her spawn 3 lovely children after 40 minutes of crunches, lunge-y/squat-y things, yelping, gasping and whathaveyou…. She had the lactic acid build-up swagga, for certain. Her hair… unwashed for 3 days. Eyebrow-raising, indeed.
The unsuspecting & sweaty woman happens upon a group of men. She is not nervous. She can handle The Mens. She is solid. She begs their pardon, and makes way through the huddle of males citizens of advanced age. Advanced. So advanced, in fact, any one could have almost been her own father’s father.
Advanced.
She takes the opening provided, but with her spatial reasoning issues, she unintentionally bumps into oneuvthe fellers.
She excuses her clumsy bump.
He raises his eyebrows… his advanced eyebrows… you knowwhatI’Mtalkin’about…
She fears her unintentional bump has been interpreted as an intentional rude move.
She apologizes, and looks for a cane that could be used as a weapon. Lucky for her… these active, advanced-aged-men do not need canes.
She turns to apologize again, just to be sure. She sees the raised eyebrows were still in full engagement.
Ruh. Roh. She picks up pace… the childcare room would be her safe haven.
However…
As she walked away she overheard one of the men scold the eyebrow raiser — “Look at you. I see those raised eyebrows. YOU DIRTY OLD MAN!!!”
So ends the tale of the time I raised eyebrows. Oh, and I totes called my husband and told him he has some competition.
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