Drama at the Gym...Again

Well, Blogger refused to cooperate with me yesterday, but I still wanted to again wish my parents a Happy 27th Wedding Anniversary! Love you both!

Now, for my story about yesterday. Get ready. It's a good one.

I was home for lunch and Bert told me that he needed to tell me something that was going to make me mad that happened when he was at the gym.

"Who talked to you?" I asked, thinking through all the slutty girls that work out there.
"No one spoke to me at all," he replied.
"Did someone touch your butt?!" I inquired, in shock.
"No one touched me," he replied.

Well, then, I figured. It couldn't be that bad.

Then he told me how he was lifting heavy weights (as usual) and to stretch out his back, he was doing a motion like he was swinging a golf club. Now, golf is certainly on his brain, as that is what he is doing at this very moment, and he hasn't played in about a year.

Anyway...

He gets to his car, and someone that works at an exclusive golf course in this area left him a note that said something like "I saw you hitting golf balls today. If you want to come play golf, just let me know." And on the back, the slut girl had written "I'm the girl with the short brown hair."

At first, I was calm. She worked at a golf course; he looked like he was someone that enjoyed golf. I figured it was nothing.

Then, less than 10 seconds later, I was furious.

I thought about what kind of a person was watching my husband and was ballsy enough to leave him a note. How dare she. Men never wear wedding rings to lift heavy weights because the weights could damage and bend rings. She best not assume anything. Then I calmed down again.

Then, I came to the realization, through the help of a co-worker, that she was clearly stalking him since she knew what he drove. I was beyond furious.

I was determined at first to call her, and then I decided to call her supervisor and get her in trouble.

And then I got her fired.

OK, OK, so that didn't happen. I didn't really call, but I realllllllllly wanted to let my psycho gene (that every girl has, in my opinion) come out. Instead, Bert went back with me to the gym yesterday and worked out with me, kissed me and helped me do weights. Unfortunately there was only one girl there at the time (who had blonde, not brown hair), but it made me feel better.

I, of course, made Bert practice what he would ever say if this whore person ever approached him. Of course, it includes phrases such as, "I'm happily married" and my favorite (thanks, Amber) "and even if I wasn't, you're so not my type." This would of course be accompanied with disgusted looks.

*insert evil laughter*

Anyway, in the midst of all this, my mom informed me that my dad had been hit on all his life, and she never played the part of the jealous wife. Something got me thinking...if they've been together for 27 years, then perhaps there is something to this not-acting-psycho mentality.

So for now, dear readers, I have decided to stay calm and maintain my dignity.

After all, I'm the one with the ring. I'm the one with the husband who loves me and tells me everything. I'm the husband that didn't confront the guy who hit on me, so I know I owe him one.

One thing I'm proud I'm not, though, is the stupid girl who leaves business cards on the vehicles of married men.