Page 62 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
“With whom?” Eugene asks.
I give him a sideways look. “You know it sounds ridiculous when you use whom properly in casual settings, right?”
“Whatever. I’m not about to lessen my grammatical prowess so you feel more comfortable in my presence. That’s a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ problem.”
“How many people are going to say that to me today?” I complain. “Actually, no. She said it was a she problem, not a me problem. Wait. A her problem?”
“I’m lost. Who is the ‘she’ we’re talking about?”
“Penny!” I say, like it should be obvious.
“Penny,” Eugene repeats. “The woman who is ‘not your type.’”
“I never said that.” I scoff.
“Oh, you said it, alright. In this very gym. Approximately ten days ago. I asked you if Penny was single. Your exact response was, ‘No idea. Not interested either way. Totally not my type.’”
“Don’t do impressions of me.” I cringe. “Also, your memory for details is extremely irritating.”
“Except for when it’s extremely helpful. Remember that time we were applying for a business loan, and you forgot your own social security number?”
I grab a protein bar from our mini fridge and take a bite. “I still find it very creepy that you had mine memorized.”
“He’s memorized mine too.” Elinor’s voice rings out from the staircase to our loft space. She proceeds to clomp down each stair like an elephant. She’s a tiny woman, but you’d never know it with all the noise she makes.
I turn my back to Eugene’s fiancée and speak out of the corner of my mouth. “I thought we agreed that you would give me a heads-up when she’s here.”
“I was going to, but you busted in here moaning about being friend zoned,” he mumbles. “I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”
Elinor reaches us at the front desk and drapes herself over my best friend. “My man can’t help it that he’s brilliant with numbers, can you, baby?” She gives him one of those super puckery kisses where their lips barely touch, like she doesn’t want to disturb her red lipstick, then turns her gaze on me. “You could learn a thing or two from him, Matt.”
“I sure could, Elinor.” I give her a saccharine smile.
There’s no denying that Elinor is a beautiful woman. On the outside, that is. The inside? That’s a whole different story. When she and Gene first got together, I was perhaps a little too vocal about my dislike of her, and it caused all sorts of tension between my buddy and me. Now, I just grit my teeth whenever she’s around and hope that he sees her true colors before it’s too late.
Preferably before New Year's Eve, when they’re set to get married.
“I was just up in the loft,” Elinor says as she perches herself on Eugene’s lap like a condescending cat. “And I really do think you guys should consider my idea.”
“With all due respect, Elinor, fuck no,” I say.
“Come on, man,” Eugene says half-heartedly, his nose in her hair.
“You don’t have to be rude, Matt,” Elinor half whines, half giggles as Eugene continues to nuzzle her neck.
“Apparently, I do, Elinor. Because every time you visit the gym, you ‘suggest’ we rent out the loft to one of your business friends—who, by the way, I don’t trust as far as I can throw them?—”
“You’re twisting up that idiom, bud,” Gene says.
“Not the time, man,” I growl, then continue, “and every time I tell you nicely, ‘no.’ That approach clearly isn’t working, so maybe this time my emphatic ‘fuck no’ will do the trick.”
“You’re wasting quality real estate space on a bunch of fucking pillows.” She huffs.
“We sure are,” I say. “What’s it to you?”
Before we started Bossfit, a mattress warehouse occupied this building. They cleared out quickly when they went out of business and left a ton of brand-new pillows in the loft above our main workout area. We called and asked them to come pick them up, but they never did.
Over time, I came to enjoy the cozy vibe up there, so we left it as is. Our members all call it “heaven” due to the puffy cloud-like pillows. And yes, “Stairway to Heaven” jokes abound. Eugene also likes to poke fun at me for getting my daily “Seven Minutes in Heaven,” where I lie among all the pillows and ponder life. I seriously get my best thinking done up there.
