Dear Dude at the Gym

I know you’ve noticed me – even though I look your way TONS more than you look my way … I do catch you checking to see if I’m looking. And while we play that coy game, I need to get a few things off my chest … but like, on my blog so as not to ruin said coy game.

You’re a conundrum to me. You wear that durag and are all tatted up … but you have this small frame you’re trying to bulk up and I really need you to know that you’re not going to get L.L.’s body. You’re just not. But I like the BGAs and the overall style. Yet, you spend your time talking to the black dudes in the club who I am sure are gay/bi or in the closet … or with the white boys. And I really don’t know too many hard core niggas who sport durags and have all these white friends. The whole thing intrigues me.

So, rest assured that I am going to continue to stare – and eventually, I’ll actually part my lips into a smile … cuz that’s what I do. But I’m not approaching you. That’s not my style – whether or not you remain just eye candy is really up to you. I’m just fine with jamming to whatever song my iPOD is blaring towards my eardrums while I work out and take in the view. You cute and everything … but, nah.

I’m sure you’ve got a similar letter on your blog – and I guess we’re at a standoff. Now, if you were L.L. … that’d be a WHOLE different story. I’d be over there yesterday. But you’re not – not matter how tight you tie that durag.

JACK