Not A Bird, Not A Plane

Okay, I admit it. I hadn’t been to the gym in a few weeks. A month is sort of a few weeks, right?

So now I’m back. I used to go at least 5 or 6 times a week. They know me there. Of course when I walked past a muscle-type I know fairly well, I said hello. He’s treated me with respect for years, ever since he found out my history.

Not this time. This time he totally brushed me off.

His lip even curled a little bit.

I figured he disapproved of my month-long absence. That’s fine. Muscle guys are mercurial even when they’re not juicing. You get used to it pretty fast, and I’ve been hanging around them for decades. Besides, in hard-core gym terms, slacking is venal, and easily lived down by just showing up.

This was nothing... or so I thought.

A while later I had to ask him if he was using a space I wanted to use. He said no, almost angrily.

Then he did a double take. Then he smiled real big.

“Hey, I didn’t recognize you. You’re wearing glasses!”

That’s a quote, sweeties. Trust me, it was sincere and true.

Someone who has known me for at least five years really, honestly, didn’t recognize me because I was wearing glasses instead of contact lenses.

Puts a new spin on the whole Clark Kent/Superman thing, doesn’t it?