“Hey.” He looked around again, as if checking there was anyone nearby. Just a couple of old ladies going at a gentle pace on the treadmills. The afternoon would be quiet until the after work crowd came in. With my job I don’t have regular hours, so I can avoid the rush if I want to.
“Good to see you in again,” Chris said. Did he mean good that I hadn’t decided to start avoiding the place for fear of this very type of awkward conversation? Please, I’m a gay photographer from a nice Jewish family who wanted me to get married and be an accountant. I’ve had more awkward conversations than I’ve had hot dinners.
“Are you getting in every day, then?” he asked.
I shrugged. I wasn’t in enough of a habit to say that yet.
“My schedule is pretty irregular. I’m just trying to get in whenever I can.”
“Right, good. Ah, have you set up a training program and fitness goals?”
Hell no, that sounded too much like hard work. And I knew what the first goal would be. “Not yet,” I said.