Read Online Death, Taxes, and Hot Pink Leg Warmers by Diane Kelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Diane Kelly
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The machines were occupied by men in various stages of perspiration production. I’d learned to wipe a dab of Vicks under my nose to combat the scent of sweaty male. Hey, maybe I should suggest Vicks to Chloe and Ashlynn. Not only would the rub combat their G-string chafing, the mentholatum would invigorate their butt crack and leave it minty fresh.
I made my way to the free-weight area, sitting down on the floor in an open space to warm up. I performed a series of stretches to prepare my quads, hamstrings, and calves for my workout. A man nearby worked a sizable hand weight, grunting and grimacing as he pulled the weight up in another bicep curl.
Thunk! The weight fell to the floor at his feet. I might have thought his muscles simply gave out if not for the fact that he was gaping like the aforementioned wide-mouthed bass.
I followed his line of vision.
Holy.
Crap.
Lu headed our way decked head to toe in eighties Flashdance glory. A bright orange headband cut a swath across her strawberry-blond hair. A gray sweatshirt with the neck hole cut out lay cockeyed across Lu’s expansive chest, revealing a pasty shoulder and the strap of a purple leotard. Underneath she wore black tights. The pinnacle of her attire had to be the hot pink leg warmers that graced her meaty calves.
The room, normally filled with the clink of weight stacks and the sounds of men straining, grew totally silent as Lu passed through. She had more eyes on her than the girls at the topless bar.
Lu stepped up to me. “I don’t know what I was so worried about. I bought these clothes thirty years ago and look, they still fit.”
She turned in a circle and the man who’d dropped the weight gasped. The bottom of her leotard was a thin piece of fabric that covered only an inch or two of butt cheek. Heck, the G-strings at Guys & Dolls had been less revealing. Thank God Lu had the tights on, too.
“Is that a thong leotard?” I asked.
“No.” Lu frowned and looked over her shoulder like she’d done yesterday. “Oh. Huh. I didn’t realize what was going on back there.” She shrugged. “I’m going to warm up.”
Lu launched into a series of jumping jacks followed by windmill toe touches, the thin panel of material creeping farther and farther up her backside as she bent over. A man passed by, gawking as he walked. Not a good idea. He ran smack-dab into the plastic shelves where the Pilates balls were stored. The balls fell to the floor, bouncing and scattering, thump-thump-thumping across the floor as the man scrambled to round them up.
Lu glanced over at the man. “What a klutz.” Turning back to me, she asked, “Where should we start?”
With her changing her outfit before one of these men hurts himself? But I couldn’t very well tell her that, could I? It would kill her confidence. “How about some cardio?”
Lu and I climbed onto adjacent treadmills. I showed her how to work the controls, suggesting she start with one of the less rigorous programs. Given that I had an abundance of pent-up sexual frustration, I opted for the mountain-climb program today. There I was, back to the yodel ay hee-hoo! I wondered when I’d get to see Nick’s hee-hoo .
After a half hour on the treadmills, we set a course for the weight machines.
Lu’s eyes scanned the equipment. “Which one of these will shrink my glutes? That’s my problem area.”
Her glutes were everyone’s problem area.
I pointed to a machine nearby. “Try the leg press. Start with thirty pounds.” A paltry weight, but the woman hadn’t worked out since Jane Fonda had produced her first workout video back in the eighties. No sense pushing herself too hard and risking a muscle tear or stroke.
Lu plunked down in the seat, moved the pin in the weight stack, and pushed. The press went back easily. “This is nothing,” Lu said. “I’m going to try fifty.”
While I worked my deltoids, Lu
The machines were occupied by men in various stages of perspiration production. I’d learned to wipe a dab of Vicks under my nose to combat the scent of sweaty male. Hey, maybe I should suggest Vicks to Chloe and Ashlynn. Not only would the rub combat their G-string chafing, the mentholatum would invigorate their butt crack and leave it minty fresh.
I made my way to the free-weight area, sitting down on the floor in an open space to warm up. I performed a series of stretches to prepare my quads, hamstrings, and calves for my workout. A man nearby worked a sizable hand weight, grunting and grimacing as he pulled the weight up in another bicep curl.
Thunk! The weight fell to the floor at his feet. I might have thought his muscles simply gave out if not for the fact that he was gaping like the aforementioned wide-mouthed bass.
I followed his line of vision.
Holy.
Crap.
Lu headed our way decked head to toe in eighties Flashdance glory. A bright orange headband cut a swath across her strawberry-blond hair. A gray sweatshirt with the neck hole cut out lay cockeyed across Lu’s expansive chest, revealing a pasty shoulder and the strap of a purple leotard. Underneath she wore black tights. The pinnacle of her attire had to be the hot pink leg warmers that graced her meaty calves.
The room, normally filled with the clink of weight stacks and the sounds of men straining, grew totally silent as Lu passed through. She had more eyes on her than the girls at the topless bar.
Lu stepped up to me. “I don’t know what I was so worried about. I bought these clothes thirty years ago and look, they still fit.”
She turned in a circle and the man who’d dropped the weight gasped. The bottom of her leotard was a thin piece of fabric that covered only an inch or two of butt cheek. Heck, the G-strings at Guys & Dolls had been less revealing. Thank God Lu had the tights on, too.
“Is that a thong leotard?” I asked.
“No.” Lu frowned and looked over her shoulder like she’d done yesterday. “Oh. Huh. I didn’t realize what was going on back there.” She shrugged. “I’m going to warm up.”
Lu launched into a series of jumping jacks followed by windmill toe touches, the thin panel of material creeping farther and farther up her backside as she bent over. A man passed by, gawking as he walked. Not a good idea. He ran smack-dab into the plastic shelves where the Pilates balls were stored. The balls fell to the floor, bouncing and scattering, thump-thump-thumping across the floor as the man scrambled to round them up.
Lu glanced over at the man. “What a klutz.” Turning back to me, she asked, “Where should we start?”
With her changing her outfit before one of these men hurts himself? But I couldn’t very well tell her that, could I? It would kill her confidence. “How about some cardio?”
Lu and I climbed onto adjacent treadmills. I showed her how to work the controls, suggesting she start with one of the less rigorous programs. Given that I had an abundance of pent-up sexual frustration, I opted for the mountain-climb program today. There I was, back to the yodel ay hee-hoo! I wondered when I’d get to see Nick’s hee-hoo .
After a half hour on the treadmills, we set a course for the weight machines.
Lu’s eyes scanned the equipment. “Which one of these will shrink my glutes? That’s my problem area.”
Her glutes were everyone’s problem area.
I pointed to a machine nearby. “Try the leg press. Start with thirty pounds.” A paltry weight, but the woman hadn’t worked out since Jane Fonda had produced her first workout video back in the eighties. No sense pushing herself too hard and risking a muscle tear or stroke.
Lu plunked down in the seat, moved the pin in the weight stack, and pushed. The press went back easily. “This is nothing,” Lu said. “I’m going to try fifty.”
While I worked my deltoids, Lu
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