A Boy Named Rex

I have always been attracted to muscles and to the guys that wear them. I remember dating a personal trainer once , Mo, who had a "surprise" for me for my birthday. You can imagine my discontent when we pulled up to the gym where he worked, and he pulled out a key. The gym was not a 24 hour gym, and closed early on the weekends, which is when my birthday fell that year.
"My boss is letting me borrow the key for the night," he said, his voice quivering with excitement as he unlocked the door.
I stared at him. "Is this your birthday present or mine?"
He looked at me blankly, his mind being totally incapable of grasping that this would not in a million years be fun for me.
To his credit, later that week he took me to a park and tried to teach me mixed martial arts, thinking that I would enjoy working out more if we were outdoors. That turned out to be our first and last session, as he tried to tell me as nicely as possible on the car ride home that I had been "his worst student."
When he was getting ready for bodybuilding competitions, he would expect me to diet with him, but could never figure out why I wouldn't lose much weight. It was because after he left my apartment where we had dined on fish with asparagus (again), I was f*cking hungry. I would wait for 10 minutes to make sure that he wasn't sitting in his car on his cell phone or lurking somewhere around the corner, and then I would drive to the nearest Taco Bell for some Nachos Bell Grande.
I met Rex while working at Enterprise. He came in wearing a tight white shirt and bad boy from The Karate Kid good looks, and I was smitten. His car was down the street at the bodyshop, and as it turned out, he knew my Assistant Manager Dario from high school. Dario gave him a big hug, forgetting that like most Enterprise people, he had just graduated high school a few years ago so not as much time had passed as he had conjured up in his head.
After Rex had left I tried to act cool as I asked Dario how he knew Rex, and what he was like in high school.
"He was popular, on the football and wrestling teams. He's a trainer for the Family Fitness in San Pedro...you think he's cute, huh?"
"What? How dare you...yes, he's cute. Why don't you ask him to our happy hour at the Blue Cafe on Thursday?"
If Jersey Shore would have been on back then I would have known then what I know now...Rex was a bonefied Caucasian Guido juicehead. And better suited for the likes of Snooki than me.
I wasn't sure if Rex was going to show up that night, but Dario had given him my number (he must have thought that I was crazy when he first saw me. I spent most of my time in my office doing paperwork or reading People magazines, but seeing how cute he was, I busied myself around the office, watering rubber plants and making coffee even though we were out of filters), and we had texted throughout the week.
I was a few Bud Lights in, and having a good time playing pool with my co-workers when preppy as could be Rex walked up. His right arm was in a sling. He said that he hurt it wrestling with someone at the gym, but instead of being frightened, I was kind of turned on. I have a weakness for neanderthals.
The night progressed with Rex not drinking much (of course he was watching his figure), and I drinking enough for the both of us (that's how I cope with dating anxiety). I am a social smoker, and wanted to smoke so badly, but knew that health conscious Rex would not approve. I told him that I had to go to the bathroom, and then ran downstairs and outside to join my boss Renee, and co-worker, Craig, outside. Craig is one of the funniest people you will ever meet. He had a belly full of beer, and probably had not seen a gym since being called last for dodgeball games in elementary school. But what Craig lacked in physical aptitude, he made up for with wit and impecial comedic timing. I was searching for a lighter when I saw the flame of a lighter coming towards me out of the darkness. Rex was standing there; he had apparently produced the lighter from its hiding place inside of his sling. Not knowing what to do, but not seeing a disgusted look from Rex, I went ahead and smoked my cigarette. He sat down in the chair between Craig and I, and embarked on a conversation that made me lose respect for Rex but gain respect for Craig. Out of the blue, Rex turned to Craig and said, "I have 6% body fat."
Without skipping a beat, Craig looked at Rex and said, "that's great. I have 96%."