Me & My Big Mouth

Last week, as I was taking Denzel out for his afternoon walk, I met a very nice man in the elevator. On the way down, we discovered that we are neighbors, we live on the same floor. He was extremely friendly but the most memorable thing about him was his body. He was in awesome shape. I'm talking tanned, toned and tight. Everywhere. He was very lean but with the perfect amount of muscles. I didn't have to ask. I knew he worked out. So, a couple of days later, G came home from the gym in our building and mentioned meeting a man who was very knowledgeable about weight training. G said the man was so friendly and cool that they ended up working out together. G also commented on the man's body and said that to his shock, the man told him that he had just turned 50. G said, "I want to know everything he's doing because I want to look like that at 50. He's amazing!" They also talked about their mutual love of biking and about hooking up one weekend to go biking in Georgetown. G's all about the biking - he's one of those guys I used to make fun of - decked out in the super tight colorful Specialized outfit, the matching helmet, the muddy shoes, and dripping with sweat. In all fairness, I guess it really is a good work out. So fast forward to Sunday. As we were heading out with Denzel, the same man that I met last week comes out of the elevator. He says hello to G, using his first name. Huh? It turns out, he's the same man that G worked out with. He introduces his girlfriend, who is also tanned, toned, and tight. But aside from their intimidating bodies, they both seemed naturally friendly and talkative. I thought to myself, it's nice that G has found a potential work out buddy/mentor. And then the man points at me and says, "And we were talking about you! We are going to get you out biking sooner or later. And you are gonna love it!" Right. I politely admit that I don't really work out (translation - never) and I don't ride. It's G's thing. That comment goes right over his head. He just goes on to explain how he and his girlfriend go biking every Sunday in the city and usually, they make a day of riding and having lunch. Then he says, "Well, why don't we all go riding together? We could show you the ropes." At this point, my fake American personality emerges. I say, "Sure, that would be great. Maybe we should do that...some time." Now, G has been completely silent during this exchange because he knows me. He knows I will never willingly bike through Georgetown. Shop in Georgetown, yes. Have lunch in Georgetown, yes. Have cocktails in Georgetown, absolutely. But bike? No thank you. And G also knows that I don't have bike. That was my trump card. So G is just standing there, smiling, knowing that his wife is totally bullsh**ing. Well, then the man says, "Ok. Let's do it! How about this Sunday? And I know you don't have a bike. So you can use mine. I have an extra one." And then there was silence. My face was frozen. Their faces still smiling, waiting for my answer. And G's face, trying not to bust out laughing. I didn't know what to say. So I said, "Sure! Let's do it!" I know. Can you believe that? What is wrong with me? It's just that the man and his girlfriend (we've decided to call them Arnold and Maria) were so excited and happy to go riding, I couldn't squash the moment. And I know G wanted to go. I didn't want to be the fat lazy girl who ruined Sunday plans. So we are set to meet this Sunday for the ride. G just shook his head when we got in the elevator. Then he said, "What are you gonna do? I can't wait to see how you are going to get out of this one!" Scheiße.