See and be seen

Today after dropping off the El Salvadorian nanny at the bus stop I actually took myself to the gym. This time when I drove her home I made an effort to make conversation since my boss talks to her like she is a five year old idiot. Even though I am not sure she gets everything I say, I try to make it a point to talk to her like the adult that she is. I told her about YK and his date - she thought that was funny and later when I pointed out the woman putting on make-up in the car in front of us she said "meybe she es goin on date wit yur booyfrint!" That was precious - see what the boss is missing out on by treating her like a lesser human? Funny shit. Anyway I know I haven't been to the gym as often as I should - in fact I pretty much took the entire month of October off - partying on school nights or recovering from school night shenanigans. So I screwed up my pride and walked in. My gym is pretty fancy and most of the people that work out there are beautifully sculpted gay men and very skinny, toned women with funny hair. I do not fit in, but usually I hide behind a giant pole with some free weights and a ball and no one looks at me or bothers me. Tonight I was in my usual spot and in the reflection of the window I saw the guy that was directly behind me - he was an Asian punk rocker who had on a camouflage tee shirt and ripped jeans. He was sitting on the floor listening to his i-pod and lazily lifting a five pound weight with his right hand (or left it was a reflection) and in the other holding his phone and yammering on with someone. It was a very funny sight. On the other side of him was a very cut guy in a blue tank top that was twirling and doing what looked to me like some funky modern dance moves - or synchronized swimming without the water right in the middle of the stretching area. Here was a guy that was very comfortable with his masculinity. He would twirl and then check to see who was watching him - twirl and check, twirl and check. I was doing my little routine where I squat on the ball and then do a lift thingy with the weights for fifteen reps and then do a set of thirty-fifty ab thingies in between each set. I don't think anyone is watching me do this (plus I am hiding out in the farthest reaches of the gym) - I am sure they look at me, but they don't see me. First of all, I am not going to go have anal sex with them in the steam room and second, I don't have that gym bunny look that the heteros go for. This allows me to get in and get out (ok I guess that works for the steam room guys too!) without too much hassle. But there is a whole group of people who go to the gym just to have people look at them. Actually tonight I caught this guy rubbing his nipples with oil as he was watching the hot guys do laps in their speedos - it was pretty funny. I don't think it is just the gym though. Like the Asian punk rocker in the jeans - there are so many people in this city that are desperate to be seen. Every waitress, Starbucks barrista and car wash attendant is hoping that someone is going to see them and make them famous. The stench of desperation oozes out of every corner of this city. Everyone here is covered in tatoos - why is that? Why have a purple Mohawk and ink all over your body? Don't tell me it is to be unique - yes perhaps but uniquely noticeable. It is such a large city and people are so spread out and separated from each other. The irony is as much as we are all desperate to be seen, everyone is afraid to look around at the other people around them. No one wants to be caught looking - to be the one who is doing the seeing. Leaving this colorful town open for my voracious eyes. I see it all. I look at everyone while I hide in the corner until it is my time to come out.