Scene III

Brad came to my cube at 12:30 p.m. promptly. I like a man with good timing.

"O.K. ready to go," I said a little nervously and proceeded to head for the exit.

I had changed into my spandex workout pants, a sleeveless shirt, and running sneakers. Brad, meanwhile, had taken off his coat and tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

I looked down at his shoes as I held the door for him. "You gonna be able to keep up in those?" I asked.

"Not a problem," he said.

I scampered down the stairs and he quickly followed.

"So do you walk a lot," Brad asked.

"No I just started," I explained but I didn't get into the whole horoscope prediction of all my dreams coming true with fitness. "Just trying to get in shape," I said.

I could hear Brad huffing and puffing as we exited the building.

"Well, you walk fast . . . ." he said as he jogged a little to keep up.

That was about the extent of our conversation. I was so hell-bent on getting my heart rate up and concentrating stride for stride that I almost forgot about Brad entirely.

After a half hour of huffing and puffing and hoofing it up six flights of stairs, I said, "Well thanks."

"Yeah, thanks," he said, sounding a little bewildered at the whole experience.

Back at my cube, I was sweating profusely. Terry popped her head up. "So what did you two talk about?"

"Not much. I was walking really fast. It wasn't exactly conducive to conversation."

"You are clearly out of your mind," Terry said. Just then the phone rang.

"No I can't make it today . . .Maybe next week. Yeah. O.K. Thanks." Then I hung up.

"Who was that?" Terry asked.

"Oh, it was that job I told you about. Being the public relations director for the Coastal Institute. It was nothing. They were just calling for a follow-up session tonight."

"And why pray tell couldn't you make it tonight?" Terry asked.

"Because you and I are going out."

"Out where?" Terry asked.

"Out dancing. Right after we go to the Y."

"And that's more important than your dream job?"

"Yes."

"But you wanted that job."

"I know but my horoscope said: fitness first and the rest will follow. Plus I don't want to appear desperate."

"Wait, wait, wait. Your horoscope?"

"Yeah."

"You are crazy."

"Maybe. But what if it works?"

"So why the dancing?"

"It's supposed to be a high energy night."

Unrelated thoughts

• I give myself permission to write complete and utter crap.
• I might die of boredom someday - but not today.
• Seen on a bathroom door at Crazy Burger: The light is on the outside. That's deep.
• What is the male equivalent of a mistress?
• Doug said I seem to be happier knowing this job is ending . . .
• Can humans really live with only two weeks of vacation?