Tara’s Gym

Anonymous Guy

I might as well be anonymous. It never seemed to matter how hard I tried or how late I stayed at work, nobody ever noticed or cared. I worked at one of those big multinational corporations as a data analyst, just one of thousands of other people doing the exact same thing. Inputting one number, running a formula, outputting another. Day in and day out. I’ve been working there for almost ten years now and have been passed over for a promotion three separate times.

I was a good employee. I came in on time. Worked hard. Did what I was told. Attended all the meetings. Responded to all the emails. Oh God, my life sounded boring even to me.

Maybe things would be better if I had a girlfriend. But I had trouble getting noticed by the opposite sex, too. I was on all the major dating apps. I uploaded my best quality photos. Filled out my profile. Gave it lots of thought, not just shallow, surfacy stuff. Shared my passions – fishing, camping, hiking, playing video games… Although, if I were honest with myself, I hadn’t really gone fishing or camping in ages. Not since my early 20s. I was well into my mid 30s now. Time just… always seemed to fly by so fast. I wanted to get away and spend more time in nature. But life got busy with work. And when I was home, I just wanted to relax. Which meant Netflix or PlayStation. I thought about picking up a new hobby, maybe a team sport or something, where I might meet new people. Where I might also meet new single girls around my age.

I swiped right on so many girls’ pictures. Why weren’t any matching with me? Oh, I knew why. Half of them weren’t even on there looking for a date. They just wanted to get more Instagram followers. So obvious. Disgusting, really. They think just because they have a pretty face and a great body, a bunch of men will follow them and then they’ll somehow get rich and famous or something that way. They lure everyone in with false hope that you’ll ever have a chance with them. In reality, they don’t care about you – or anyone. Just themselves. Social media was full of self-absorbed attention-seeking narcissists. Pretty young girls with no talent or skills, feeding their inflated egos with likes and followers.

I didn’t want to just follow a bunch of random pretty girls online. I wanted to find love. Somebody I could love, who would love me back. Somebody I could spoil and treat like a queen – and I’d be her king.

But here I sat in my gray cubicle, sitting in front of a monitor processing meaningless numbers all day about last quarter’s results, for a giant soulless corporation that didn’t even know or care I existed.

And I was starting to worry I might never meet someone. Each day that passed by, I got a little older. Most of my co-workers were guys. The few women who worked in my office were either way too old or already in serious, long-term relationships. I wasn’t into the bar or club scene anymore. I tried going, but it felt awkward being a decade older than everyone else. Plus the music was loud, it was too crowded, and the place seemed dirty. And I started feeling tired around ten o’clock or so… and those things didn’t really pick up until after midnight. I couldn’t stay up partying until 4 AM. I had a real job now. I had to get up for work in the morning. Pay bills. Be responsible…

The truth was, I simply wasn’t in college anymore. And for whatever reason, I wasn’t lucky enough to meet the right girl when I was younger. So now I was stuck with scrolling through online dating, coming across yet another fake profile just looking for more social media followers… Ugh. Or the actual girls on there were just looking for a casual fling, nothing serious. Or they were super ugly and had tons of emotional baggage. No thank you.

What hope was there for me?

But no. I refused to quit. I was never the kind to give up or give in to despair. There was somebody out there for me, somewhere. I knew it. I believed it. I just had to find her.

Somehow.

Maybe if I got into better shape, I’d be more attractive to more women. I made decent money at my current job. Not a lot; I certainly wasn’t rich by any means. But I made enough. I’d be a good provider. I’d be a real man to her. I could take her on fancy dates, give her a nice home… spoil her with jewelry and pretty dresses from time to time. I’d take good care of her.

I wanted somebody I could settle down with, build a life with…

I wasn’t a kid anymore, after all. If I was going to start my own family one day, I had better do it soon. I didn’t want to grow old and be single and alone. I wanted love. I wanted a soulmate. I wanted a family.

If only I could find her. Maybe I just had to stand out a little more. Make myself a little more attractive, somehow. I was in decent shape already. I wasn’t fat or anything. But I could certainly tone up a bit, build some more defined muscle, get into better shape overall. Maybe if I was a little bigger, stronger, more cut, had some nice abs too… and then took pictures of the new and improved me and used them on my dating profiles, then maybe I’d get more matches…

Maybe it was time to join a gym. And who knows, maybe I’d meet a cute single girl there too. It was worth a try. Worst case, I’d have more energy and a healthier body. It’d certainly make my doctor happier. But best case, my new fitter body would attract a total hottie, and we’d have amazing sex, fall in love, settle down, and get married one day…

I didn’t want to wait until I was 40 to have my first kid. And I’d want to be married and enjoy being just two of us for at least 2 to 3 years first. And to make sure we were compatible, we should date for a couple years before getting married… which meant… um, I needed to meet her now.

Yeah. I needed to find somebody. ASAP. Which meant making myself as attractive as possible. It was time to join a gym and start working out.