i need closure!

firstly, refer to my last post if you haven't already.
oh and also read this.

now. when i went on the Personal Development thingy i had an older man in my group, and on the second night i had a feeling that he was interested in me. I had a conversation with him and i brought up our ages. after explicitly saying that i was 24 i asked him how old he was. I would never ever do that normally to someone older, but I really wanted to reiterate to him indirectly that there was a huge age difference. so i found out he was 42.

so on the second last night i saw him coming towards me with his mobile phone, looking quite nervous. dammit, he's going to ask me for my number.

Old Man: So, Bee, i was wondering... uhm... are you going dancing tonight?
Me: ah, no, my knee has been clicking for the past hour and i don't want to push it.
Old Man: oh, ok, because i was wondering, if maybe you wanted to possibly go out now, and just catch up for a drink, like we could go and have a coffee somewhere in the city... (really hopeful, puppy-dog expression on his face)
Me: (enter rambling bullshit cos i'm lying) ah, well, wow, i'd love to, but you see, uh, i just spoke to my little sister in the toilet (firstly i didn't speak to her, secondly, when i lie why do i say doubly stupid things like i was on the phone in the toilet?) and uhm she really wants to see me, cos you know she hasn't seen me all weekend and you know she's little, she's only 14 (blatantly lying again) so i already promised her that i'm going to go home and spend some time with her, cos i haven't seen her you know? (ramble-ramble-ramble)
Old Man: oh, oh, uhm, oh, well ok....

and then i did what i always did. I GOT SUCKED IN TO FEELING SORRY FOR HIM. and before my mouth could tell my brain what it was saying this came out of my mouth:

Me: but, uhm, did you want my number?
whaaaaaaaaaaaat on earth is wrong with me. he looked surprised, and then handed his phone over to me. I realised that he probably hadn't taken his phone out for my number at all. I typed in my number while repeating 'IDIOT' over and over again to myself silently.

i finished typing it in and looked up at him. he still looked really upset and he was looking at me as though he wanted to speak but was stopping himself. he went to speak a few times but nothing came out.

so again... i felt sorry for him, sympathy not empathy, and i said:

Me:well, tomorrow we start at 6, did you want to come past the city a little earlier tomorrw, say 5, and we can catch up for a coffee then?

this time he looked even more crestfallen.

Old Man: no, uhm, i can't, unfortunately 6.00 is the absolute earliest i could come... i'm at work, oh... uhm

as he 'ohed' and 'uhmed' with his worried expression i bit my tongue, as in a literally BIT MY TONGUE. i kept on feeling sorry for him and i was one step away from offering something even more ridiculous, like 'oh, look, would you like me to be the mother of your children?' just because i felt sorry for him.

so that was a perfect example of my movie.

BUT WAIT; THERE'S MORE!

i'm about to head out the door tonight, just running around grabbing shisha and coal to have at my friend's house, and a number called my mobile that wasn't saved in there.

Me:Hello?
Old Man:Hello Bee
Me:Who's this?
Old Man:It's Old Man
Me:(omgomgomg) Old Man! How are you? (fake enthusiasm, want to die on the spot)
Old Man:good good... are you going out dancing tonight?
Me:Me? no, no, tonight i'm just hanging out with my friends, quiet one. (stop rambling)
Old Man:Oh, because i wanted to know if you'd like to come to a greek cafe with me tonight and have a couple of drinks?
Me:ah, well Old Man, my friend is expecting me (mistake number 56 - it sounds like i would go had i not already made plans)
Old Man:Oh, so you wouldn't like to come to have a drink?
Me:(fuck! i struggle with confrontation withOUT people directly asking me) uhm well, no, she's been sick for a couple of weeks and i haven't seen her in a while (total lie and rambling)
Old Man:oh ok, well what are you doing tomorrow between 10 and 1?
Me:I'm going to my accountant (finally i said something that was true, and i was so excited by this that i subconsciously sabotaged it) and we made the appointment months ago and i can't change it (SHUT UP)
Old Man:oh, ok, it's just that i'm doing another personal development program and i thought you'd like to come as my guest
Me:(hell no) wow Old Man, that sounds really great, but i can't because of the tax man, my family would kill my because we have to do our taxes together (why the hell am i telling him this?)
Old Man:so you're not dancing tonight?
Me:Mope, night off.
Old Man:I borrowed a ballroom dancing book from the library. is that what type you do?
Me:(by this point i was hysterical and i freaked) when did you borrow the book? (for some reason i desperately wanted him to say 2 months ago, before he met me, and it was just a coinkidink that he then met someone who danced)
Old Man:uhm, oh... so do you do ballroom?
Me:No. when did you borrow the book?
Old Man:oh, uhm i cant remember.

after that point i think i was so frustrated that i managed to finish the conversation without agreeing to anything, without telling him where i go dancing, without making a coffee date etc. the whole call went for over 20 minutes so it was quite a lot of distress going on on my end.

anyway, i am now saving his number as DO NOT ANSWER OLD MAN.

call that exercise? PFFT!

what a joke and a half. i joined a gym near work a few months ago with my co-worker and it included a 'kick start' program which included 3 free half hour personal training sessions. i hadn't gotten around to using them cos I'd been having a little bit of vertigo and i didn't want to do an intense session while dizzy. what a joke... i could have done it while in labour (easy to say that now.)

the trainer has been calling me trying to book me in to see him for the first session and we've been playing phone tag for ages. i finally spoke to him and agreed to 6pm tonight. at 4.30 this afternoon i forgot if it was 6 or 6.30 so i called him, and he got off the phone with me with the parting comment of 'bring your towel, cos WOW i'm a hard asse!'

i actually started to stress a little as i was leaving work... what if he pushed me so hard and I couldn't go dancing tonight? worse still, what if i was so injured and I couldn't go to Ormond Hall on saturday night!?

ok, gripe numero uno: he talked waaaay too much. i LOVE talking, but i do it for free. no one pays me to talk. ok, i know he was free but i believe that I pay enough with the gym membership to expect that he will SHUT UP. and he's male so it wasn't like he could do two things at once; if he was training me and talking i would think it was alright, but not only did he stop but he insisted on stopping me so i could listen to his crap stories.

secondly - he kept on going on and on about how he was a 'bad asse' and a 'hard asse' on the people he trains... i began my training at 6pm and am writing this now (on my lovely mac) at 2am WEARING THE SAME CLOTHES because i didn't break out in even the tiniest sweat. i was so comfortable with how i smelt (i didn't, basically) that i even went dancing in these clothes.

and C - he just kept on saying stupid shit. like he had to reach up high to fix a part on the equipment, and he put down his clipboard, pulled down his tshirt, tucked his tshirt into his elasticised pants, pulled his jumper down over his waist, then turned to me to explain 'sorry, i'm really paranoid about people seeing my undies.' WHO SAYS THAT!?

and finally he just thought he was way tougher than what he was... he stopped me in the middle of one of my reps and said out of nowhere 'wow, you know... woah, gee, i coach under fourteens boys in soccar... and gee! do i feel sorry for them... you should see what i make them do!' and i asked what. and he literally said the following, word for word:
'well... wow... i just make them do heaps, like i am such a hard asse on them, you have no idea... like, for example, they are meant to do, like, 15 push ups, and, cos i'm such a hard asse, i make them do, like... 20! and i say to them, i say nine... eight... seven...six... five... five... five.... five.... five... five... four... you know, like i put in an extra 5 when i'm saying 5 and i push them all the way to 20.'

when i used to do boxing and three different venues three times a week i did probably around 4 to 5 thousand push ups and sit ups.

oh yeah! and lucky last - when he was making another appointment with me in the office his boss came in to ask him a question, and he turned to her and said 'so, like, when am i getting my glamour shots done?' she rolled her eyes and walked out. he turned to me, and in fonzie style said sleazily to me, 'you know... i'm a model.' i didn't know what to say, so i quietly asked, 'really?'. he threw his head back, slapped his knee and laughed, yelling 'i can't believe you believed that! nah they're just taking my picture to put on the wall with all the personal trainers. they're dressing me as superman and suspending me from the ceiling and making it look like i can fly and they're taking a photo.'

again, i was dumbfounded... 'really?'

again, he pissed himself laughing, but this time he cried 'i can't believe i just ripped you again.'

i am a DICKHEAD MAGNET.