The Hard Sell

One of the reasons I like the gym is just because of the enjoyment of getting away from work and doing something semi-productive with the time I don't have to be there. I know I take my time and probably don't lift correctly or count the time between sets right, but whatever. It's partly meditative and restoring just getting away. I like listening to my music and zoning out, nothing more and nothing less. That's why it was a rude awakening to be bothered yesterday by Terry, a trainer. He came up and introduced himself in the middle of my workout.
"So, what are you trying to do there?"
"I'm just trying to stay tone."
The words were blasphemous to Terry.
"You mean you don't want to gain muscle?"
"No," I told him.
I thought that would get him off my case. But after asking me my age and telling me I looked a lot younger, he launched into a monologue about how I would be more impressive to girls with more muscle and I needed to watch out because once I got older, I could be walking around with a spare tire.
"You like girls, don't you?" he asked.
"No," I answered, getting a slight, horrible flashback to when I came out to my parents at a Burger King.
Unlike my parents, Terry seemed to selectively not to hear my answer.
"You have to be careful asking that around here," he chuckled.
"Yeah, it's Los Angeles."
He kept bothering me. He wouldn't stop. I was trying to be polite. I had no intention of working out with him and he knew it, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He kept wanting to set up an appointment. There is no way I wanted to spend any amount of my free time with someone like him.
"Why are you just sitting there?" he said, motioning for me to get back to lifting.
"Because you're talking to me and won't fucking shut up," I thought, but instead just continued my exercise.
"There's the muscle," he said, watching me creepily.
"Yeah. It's hiding. It only comes out for special occasions," I answered.
He finally left me in peace, but made sure to come back when I had moved on to another machine.
I ended up skipping some machines and just moved on to cardio to make sure I was away from him. I felt invaded in my quiet sanctuary. I sat there hoping he wouldn't ever bother me again and make my alone time uncomfortable and strange.
I didn't go back today. We had a department lunch.
I'm scared for the next time I go back. I don't want to be bothered. I want to work out alone, doing whatever exercises I want to do in whatever way I want to do them, listening to Jenny Lewis and zoning out.