My Old Guy Count Is Off the Charts

Uniontown, PA is full of men who like to hit on me.  For some cruel reason, though, all these men aren't in an appropriate age range for me.  Oh no.  They're old enough to be my dad...or my granddad.

Don't get me wrong--I have nothing against age gaps in relationships.  However, there is a difference between being in a loving and committed relationship and being ogled by the guy with mustard stains down the front of his NASCAR shirt.

If you know me, you'll know that this isn't really that surprising.  I say all the time that my life isn't real...case in point, the following list of my Five Favorite Fellows who HMU in Uniontown.

1. Toupee von Sweatervest
     description: mid-fifties, sharply dressed in a nice wool sweater vest, proud wearer of obviously fake and over-dyed black hairpiece
     last seen: American Eagle
This gentleman has come into the store on not one, but two occasions, and has successfully unsettled me both times.  After declining my offer to help him shop around, he will stand and watch me fold tables or help other customers.  I can feel his bulging eyes following me around, and then all of a sudden I'll turn around and he'll be right behind me.  He'll introduce himself with his heavy-phone-breather-esque voice and then leave the store.  He's a total 10 on the Scale of Terrifying Creepiness.

2. Meat Head
     description: early forties, completely ripped, overly gelled hair, prone to wearing neon muscle shirts
     last seen: Planet Fitness
I affectionately call this man my "boyfriend" because we semi-consistently run into each other at my gym and he always holds the door open for me.  While he isn't blood-curdlingly creepy like von Sweatervest, he still isn't a total gentleman in my eyes because I have a little bit of a problem with the fact that he pauses his workout to watch me stretch.  Just, no.  Planet Fitness is awesome because it advocates for zero judgment, but shouldn't that also prohibit excessive people watching?  Like, I want to enjoy my workout, not cower in a corner and feel embarrassed about my ten minute stretch sesh.  If only this were the least of my problems at the gym.  Rank on the Scale of Terrifying Creepiness: 4.

3. Grandpa
     description: basically Santa Claus on his off season, only shorter and without the beard
     last seen: Planet Fitness
Yet another gym-lurking culprit.  While I understand that people tend to ask me about yoga, there is a monumental difference between asking for advice and staring at me before interrupting my workout with actual creepiness masquerading as a bunch of questions.  I do not need any stranger cornering me for half an hour asking me about my life and why I like to stretch.  It's just not okay.  I see right through your thin complimentary veneer into your creepy, twisted soul.  Rank on the Scale of Terrifying Creepiness: 6.

4.  Daytona
     description: early fifties, wearer sun visor indoors, advocate for wearing long socks with shorts
     last seen: Planet Fitness
I was minding my own business when this man approached me while I was wiping down my equipment.  He was probably the least harmless of the bunch, but definitely the most annoying.  He had this bee-bopping, overly-excited chipmunk quality about him.  The conversation was supplied almost entirely by him, with barely a pause between sentences.  It went something like this: "You work out here all the time?  You look like you know what you're doing.  Yeah.  I live in Florida.  Where I come from, the Planet Fitness is almost exactly the same.  Just a little different.  We got one of them pools where you can swim 'gainst the current.  Y'know what I'm talking about?  Yeah.  And a sauna.  It's in Florida, but I'm 'riginally from up around here.  It's so awesome.  Just too bad they don't got a sauna in this one."  I smiled and responded with as few words as possible to this kindly windbag and quickly moved along.  Rank on the Scale of Terrifying Creepiness: 3.

5. Glasses Confuserton
     description: early forties, short, profusely stained white shirt, clouded glasses (i.e., the windows to his murky soul)
     last seen: Planet Fitness (seriously...should I switch gyms?)
I was literally on a piece of equipment in the middle of a set when this guy sauntered by.  I caught him out of my periphery while he was cruising the area, but I just assumed he was checking out the equipment.  Wrong.  He slowed down and watched me and the other two girls using ab machines and all of a sudden stopped and turned around and asked me what my name was.  My Jiminy Cricket was telling me to give a fake name, but I told him my name was Jessi anyway.  He started asking me about all the things I use to work out on in this part of the gym because he wanted some information on it.  Looking back, I should have told him to go ask an employee.  Unfortunately, hindsight's always 20/20.  Anyway, he cut me off mid-sentence and said, "Okay, Jessi.  It was nice to meet you," and then walked away.  I looked at the girls who were using the other machine and we exchanged glances of mutual concern.  Rank on the Scale of Terrifying Creepiness: 8.


Okay, okay.  Maybe I'm being too harsh on these guys.  What if they were just genuinely trying to be friendly?  I could give them the benefit of the doubt, but I know someone has to agree with me.  Something in my gut was just telling me that these encounters could not be normal.  I'm an open-minded girl, but if being unsettled by stalkerish behavior makes me a jerk, then I'll wear that badge proudly.  I'm not saying that every person who has ever approached me has demonstrated sociopathic behavior in thirty seconds or less--I met some of my closest friends by weird kismet.  I'm just saying that there is a really thin line between normal/friendly and creepy/heinous.

So, what do we learn from all this?  The gym is the best place to meet your potential murderer, and that my life is not real.