How (not) to pick up chicks
At the gym Friday morning, I had an interesting encounter with one of the personal trainers.  I was riding the bike, happily listening to my ipod when we ambled over.  He's not the most... svelt... personal trainer, so he's a little hard to miss.  He is also one that I have never met or worked with, so I was a little surprised when he stopped to talk to me.  "I'm S**** (name removed to protect the guilty)" he said.  They call me "BS" for Big S****."  Well duh, I think.  "Can I give you a compliment?" he asks.  I am not sure what my options are here- can you really respond no to that?  "Um, OK." "You have great arms," he says. "I've been admiring them."  "Thank you." I respond.  "Its from carrying around my two children."  He looks a little less excited at this, but continues to talk for a bit while I nod and look longingly at my ipod.  As he winds up, he gives me a fairly creepy once over sort of look and smiles.  "Remember, my name is BS.  If you need me, you just ask for me."  "Sure," I reply, thinking that he is very full of BS and wondering why, precisely, I might need him.  He starts to walk away.  "What's my name?" he asks.   "BS," I say obligingly.    "Its good to be remembered," he grins.  "Yes," I respond.  "For whatever reason that may be."  He seems to think that this is a good anwer and smiles again.

*******

This morning we met Emily and the boys at the Botanical Gardens.  After a long morning of adventures, we split up right before heading out.  Mariel and Noella and I got on the elevator and headed down to the exit.  The doors opened, and a family with two boys waited while we got off.  The older boy, maybe about 5 or 6, stood, staring at Mariel.  She paused, not sure what to do with the attention. Looking right in her eyes he said in a loud voice: "Wow, she is really cute!" and then took his mother's hand to walk on to the elevator.   His parents and I laughed and the mother sighed.  "I guess it starts now," she said.