By Dianne Hendricks
Whenever she got to the gym, no matter the day or hour, he was there, wearing the same Def Leppard tee and threadbare running shorts. Grizzled, skinny, and bent, he hobbled on the treadmill or slowly pedaled the recumbent bike.
After a while, she began to chat him up. Six months later, she knew bits and pieces: Vietnam; hard times; a gym, with showers and lockers, open 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., membership half-price special. Nighttime hours under the overpass. Sometimes the lobby of the post office worked out okay.
“Thank you for your service,” she said.
He smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
A sensitive piece. Nicely done.
Done absolutely genuinely. Nice.
Nice story, but note that “recombinant” refers to DNA; “recumbent” refers to a type of exercise bike.
Well said. A reminder to all, including us gym-rats, that there is a bottom:
Down Here
See I Remind them all
That there is a bottom
A bottom
I remind them all
That there is a bottom, Lord
Oh yes there is a bottom indeed
Yes there is a bottom
And it looks just like me
–Tom Waits
Thanks, everybody. Great Tom Waits, Don. You’re brilliant, Iris! That one slipped right past me. How embarrassing! Feedback is so helpful. This is such a supportive and helpful community, and I appreciate all of you. Dianne