Older man to his buddy: This lady next to me is burning up her machine, and I don’t even know what her name is! Yeah, she’s over there makin’ me look real bad, and I don’t even know her name!
Shannon (panting): I’m Shannon. And you are?
Older man: Bruce. Good to meet ya! Are you doing fat burner, level 14?
The man on the crunch machine snorts loudly. Bruce looks at him accusingly and continues.
Bruce: I’m right, aren’t I? Fat burner–I can hear the machine getting louder and louder, then more quiet. That’s the fat burner, isn’t it!?
Shannon: You’re right. (He really was!) You?
Bruce: Level 9, constant. This here’s Fred, but everybody calls him Beautiful (gestures to his buddy on the crunch machine).
Shannon: Hi, Beautiful.
All the other old men in the area giggle, and Beautiful turns an adorable shade of red.
Beautiful: Well, he’s Bruce, so everybody calls him Bruce the Moose!
More laughter from the elderlies. The other older women in the room giggle especially loudly. I start to think that maybe Bruce the Moose and Beautiful are some of the “cool kids.”
Bruce the Moose (looks over at me appraisingly): So, you run marathons, don’t ya? You look like you’re runnin’ marathons.
Shannon: No, no, not me. I am thinking about trying to do the Mini next year, but I have never run more than 6 miles at one time. Are you a runner, Bruce the Moose?
Beautiful laughs and shakes his head back and forth. Bruce grins from ear to ear.
Bruce the Moose: Used to be. I’m too old now–it’s tough on the joints, ya know. That’s why I do the stairmaster. Keeps me fit without stressin’ my knees and ankles. (Gives me another sidelong glance.) So, you about 30?
Shannon: Yep, that’s right. (Again, dead on. This guy is good!)
Bruce: I see you got a ring on–you married?
Shannon: Sure am. My husband comes here a lot, too–his name is Sam. You’ve probably seen him around.
Beautiful: Don’t ask him his age, honey! He could be your great-grandpa! You might fall off the machine after you hear it!
More giggles from the peanut gallery.
Bruce the Moose: It’s Lisa, right?
Shannon: No, it’s Shannon.
Bruce the Moose: Right, Shannon. Shannon. I’ll remember that. It’s Irish. I’ll remember that.
I am unable to speak for a while, and Bruce the Moose hears my labored breathing and takes pity on me with his silence. When my workout is over, I clean off my machine.
Shannon: Well, Bruce, it was really nice to meet you. Are you almost done? You’ve been going for a long time!
Bruce the Moose: Yeah, just a few more minutes here. I do five miles every other day. Keeps me spry.
A couple gray-haired ladies in the room look at him with affection. Another lady walks by–probably about 40.
Bruce the Moose (to the 40-year-old): Hi, young lady.
40-Year-Old: Hi, Bruce.
Bruce the Moose (to me):Â It’s Michelle, right?
Shannon: Nope, it’s Shannon. Irish, remember?
Bruce: Yeah, okay–Shannon. I’ll remember that.
Shannon: Okay, Bruce. Have a good day–I’ll see you later.
The 40-year-old lady hops on a treadmill and starts laughing and shaking her head at Bruce. Beautiful joins in.
Bruce the Moose: What? What’s so funny?!
40-Year-Old: It’s been 5 years and you still don’t get my name right, Bruce! I don’t think you’ll be remembering hers anytime soon.
Beautiful is laughing like crazy now, as are the rest of the elderlies. Bruce quiets the peanut gallery with a hand, shushing them like a classroom of second-graders. He looks at me confidently.
Bruce the Moose: Bye, Rachel!
Everyone else: (raucous laughter)
Shannon: Bye, Bruce.
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