I know you’re all dying to know about the big date so without any preamble…
For the first time that I can ever recall, my person didn’t even hit snooze when the alarm went off this morning. She got right up, fed the pups and hopped directly into the shower. When her husband left for work an hour prior she was all “Love you, too. Have a good day at work.” like it was a normal day. I was all set to have the morning off, fully expecting her to emerge from the bathroom all dressed up, or at the very least, in jeans. To my surprise though, she was in full workout gear- less layers than usual but she was clearly planning to wear a ginormous sweatshirt to meet this guy. Odd, yes, but what do I know about clothes or dating even? Maybe breakfast dates are super casual? Bright blue socks and then myself completed her attire and I figured maybe she just really wants to wear me (I may not be the hottest shoes that she owns but I am definitely the cutest pair of sneakers!) and the rest makes it look less obvious? Again, what do I know?
Except, I start to doubt it’s a breakfast date when she grabs a banana and a bottle of water on our way out the door.
One thing I hate about the car- not being able to see out the windows. I am so over the novelty of working the pedals- big whoop. Let me try a hand at the steering wheel! Driving is the only time I ever think it might’ve been fun to be a glove. Sorry, I am getting off track, but my point is that I had no idea where we going. A half an hour later, when we finally do arrive, I can hear her mumbling to herself about parking and its another 5 minutes before we’re out of the car. Excited, I jump out along with her and what do I see but the back of ginormous building and lots of cars. No signage, or clues. We are so far from the entrance that I think maybe this is why she brought me along, are we going to run there? But no, we walk and when we eventually get to the doors, I can’t see what the logo says, its too high up. Once inside, it is chaos! There are, well, as many people milling about as there are cars in the parking lot, which is, I guess, how that usually works.
She approaches a front desk and states she has an appointment and just as I expect her to say Jim, she says Kim. Kim? Who the hell is Kim? I know that I did not mishear her, she clearly said Jim multiple times during that phone call. Thankfully, we are asked to take a seat and wait, which I was hoping would give me a few minutes to get my thoughts together. 5 minutes turned into 10 and I notice that the place is positively teeming with sneakers. Seriously, every single person who walked passed was wearing a pair of athletic shoes- it was like the department store, only more so because everyone was so animated and full of feet! Few make eyelet contact but there really wasn’t time as each was rushing about. Maybe this a job interview. I didn’t take my person for a factory type of chick, but that seems to be where we are. Just beyond the seating area was a large glass enclosed space full of all sorts of machines. I didn’t know what they could possible produce here but everyone seemed to be hard at work making something or other. I’m mulling this over when Kim arrives- blond and decidedly female, she is definitely not a Jim. They introduced themselves and we all headed up a short flight of stairs to her office.
The conversation that ensues is way over my head- both figuratively & literally and I only catch a few words: sponsorship, charity, Sparrow’s Nest. Someone else joins in the meeting, also not possibly Jim as she too is obviously a girl, Veronica they call her, and she is just as excited about whatever it is they are discussing. The words half-marathon, training and team float by me and then, apparently, the meeting is over. Everyone is happy to have met each other and my person is falling all over herself to say thank you to Kim, who is leading us back down the stairs and to another desk. Where a man is waiting for us. Jim!! I knew it! I am not crazy.
Only his name is Phil. He takes some information from my person like her name, address & date of birth. (Now I know: Nicole, we live in the Hudson Valley of NY annnnd I am pretty sure if I reveal her age on the internet I am breaching some sort of girl code.)
Phil input all these details into a computer, then asked Kim for a expiration date to which she responded with, ’til the end of the year’. A few more keystrokes and hands my person, oh, I mean, Nicole, a key fob.
Welcome to the club!
Then I see the keychain & it all makes sense. I am a moron…
Turns out, the locally owned gym will be sponsoring Nicole (& me, by proxy) with a membership to aid in her, our, efforts to prepare for the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon we’ll be running in November to raise money for Sparrow’s Nest. Additionally, they’re going to brainstorm some ways they can help with the whole of the team’s training. Awesome, right?
I couldn’t have been more wrong. Lesson learned- don’t assume. What is it people say about that?