Today was my first day of Pilates, or rather “pee-lah-tees.” Yeah, whatever. I prefer Pie-lets, maybe because it sounds more masculine or like “Pirates” (arrhh!) or something machismo-ally stew-ped like that.
Knowing I was prone to act a fool, I tried hard to keep my mouth shut during the class. Because, admittedly, I was a little giddy from being the only male in a sea of sirens. But, as my temper will have me, I had to engage Tiffany, the very pretty instructor, in a little banter before we got started.
“You look rather cheerful,” she noted right off.
“Can’t help it. I’m considering bringing some horse blinds the next time.”
“And why would that be?,” she replied curiously, as I suddenly noticed via the walls of mirror that all the others were leaning in toward us.
“Well, like most men, it’s a little hard to concentrate when you’re alone in a room replete with half-clad beautiful women moving and stretching and moaning in pain all around you.”
I heard a few muffled chuckles in the distance, and added, “Of course, I’m only joking (blinking my lashes innocently)…about the blinds that is…’the beautiful women’ I’m quite serious about.”
Looking at me with a puzzled brow, I elaborated to her, “But! Luckily, fortunately, I possess an uncanny ability to focus. I dare say I could have been Ulysses without wax, and stayed the course whilst fully appreciating the tempting and tempestuous euphony.”
Fully expecting that she would not grasp a word of my quaint allusions, she shocked me to retort, “As long you comport yourself here Homer, I will grant you immunity as a bristling male.”
Thung! And in went her arrow, striking me en pointe.
Arrhh! Oh, how these smart and svelte women know how to get me where it hurts most! Especially, if they happen to be awfully diggedy-dog cute.
The enamored moment made me pause in awe before I could collect thoughts well enough to reply, “Touché Tiffany, Touché!”
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