Day 130: Make An Ass Out of Yourself.

With all of the mayhem and madness of my return back to Paris, I have been emotionally exhausted and stressed making going back to the gym a non-option. I just haven't had it in me. But since I'm paid up for the year, I need to justify the steep fee by going at least several times a week plus I have been having a French food appreciation resurgence leaving my clothes a bit on the 'snug' side. So off to the gym my expanding butt went.
I needed to force myself to go to my Body Attack class where I burn up to 1000 calories. Feeling sluggish as I was pulling down my sports bra, it hit me! My motivation jolted! It was Tuesday which meant that the class was being taught by Antoine! Antoine, the deliciously cute instructor who would make anyone want to work out. At the risk of sounding completely cheesy, this guy is sizzling.
Arriving 10 minutes early to watch the step class he teaches before, where he is like Fred Astaire on his step. I have never seen anyone float, glide and pirouette on a Reebok step before. On top of his Adonis duties and being God's gift to France, I'm assuming Antoine is also a dancer. Not having seen him in a few months, he looked just as good, if not better than I remember but I was also in a deep depression and a gold lion like this can only be fully appreciated with a focused mind. 
Probably feeling watched, Antoine sharply turned his head to the left where he saw my little face peeking between the schedules taped on the glass door of the fitness room. Busted. I tried to look casual but when I try to look casual I do this weird thing where I pretend to be chewing gum and squint at something in the distance like I'm deep in thought. Unfortunately for me, my face probably spoke volumes, as it always does, so he knew what I was up to no good, with or without the pensive fake gum act. The guy's got to know that he's a walking masterpiece. Come on.
Antoine is tall and muscular with chiseled facial features, short brown hair, olive toned skin and frankly, I just want to climb on him. Really, he is a wall of man. I generally go for more compact guys who are short and petit (think Ben Stiller's build), but every so often a beefcake tickles me fancy. Ahoy.
The step class ended and as the step students were leaving the backdoor Antoine came and opened the front door for us waiting for Body Attack. Being at the front Antoine and I made lingering eye contact. The heat of the room wafted on my face intensifying our reunion and I swear I heard Prince's "When Doves Cry" playing somewhere, probably in my head. "Bonjour, I see that America is back." he said in a husky low voice. Being in an Antoine haze and having been thinking dirty thoughts sprinkled with Prince lyrics a mere seconds before the only breathy words that came out of my mouth as we stood face to face were "Miam." It's official, I. am. disgusting. For my non-francophone readers, I just said "Yummy" to him. Yummy? I have serious problems. Antoine looked at me, uncomfortably looked left, looked right and broke the silence with an enthusiastic "Ok, Allez-up!" he said with a clap as he gestured the waiting students to come in.
Feeling ridiculous, I avoided all Antoine eye contact and focused on my fitness. Having not gone in two months, the class severely kicked my ass and was dripping sweat by the end of the hour of pure torture. I tried to sneak out before Antoine got to the door where he says goodbye to everyone but I couldn't gather my things fast enough by the time he was already there. Maybe he forgot my weird comment, I mean the class was intense and all of those endorphins charging through our system, I doubt he remembered what the weird American girl said an hour ago. Before reaching the safe haven of the lobby, in my ear I heard "Bon Appétit America" as I walked past him. Ah! Shocked, all I could reply was "Ok. Au revoir." and shuffled out practically pressing my weight on the person in front of me who wasn't moving their ass fast enough. So, what do you know? Antoine is just as sleazy as me. Ok. I don't feel so bad but I may have to avoid his class for a few weeks.
Suggestive comments aside, the last time I took Antoine's class, I remember being in a heartbroken fog where I thought he was cute but no one was as cute as Monsieur Flâneur, no one was as funny as Monsieur Flâneur, there was no one but you know what? There are guys out there who are cuter, funnier, smarter and more importantly...nicer than Monsieur Flâneur. And I happen to be dating one. Antoine is for hoots and hollers and for all I know is probably gay but it was a good (and entertaining) return to the gym. Every day I feel a drop more recovered from my break-up where it's turning into a distant memory and am shedding myself from that sad little girl from last spring. I'm falling back in love with Paris, life, myself and seeing how fortunate I am in so many ways. Miam, miam? No, it's still not appropriate...