Gym Tale

So, as you know, I go to a gym to exercise. No one there pays too much attention to me, luckily - most of the people using the facility are WAY younger and WAY MORE physically fit than me, so I have gotten used to just sort of disappearing into the background. Which suits me just fine. I think it takes an exceptional athlete to appear at their best while exercising, and that sure doesn't apply to me. Well, a few days ago, I was huffing and puffing while lifting my girlie weights, and I see in the mirror an older male patron apparently watching me. So I sort of nod to him, in the mirror, mind you, and quickly look away. I don't really like lifting or doing any sort of exercise in front of a mirror but I don't have a choice on this particular day. So as I move on to a different exercise, I look in the mirror to check my form, and I notice this guy is still looking at me. Again, I look away, but now I am beginning to wonder if I am either totally 'spazzing' while lifting these weights and he is staring in horrid fascination, or if I have somehow managed to sit in wet paint or have some other equally embarrassing wardrobe malfunction which is causing his interest in what I am doing. I try to ignore his long glances, and continue my exercise. But now, I am stealing little looks into the mirror to see if he is still watching and every time I peek, it seems he is. So now I am getting REALLY uncomfortable, and more than a little annoyed. As I marched over to where he was, I was deciding exactly what I would say to him and how I would demand to know why he was staring at me when I saw it. His cane, leaning up against the linear squat machine. My steps faltered, and as I came to a stop, another man came up to him and said "You done?", handed him his cane and led him to the next piece of equipment. What can I say? Thank goodness his buddy got to him before I did!