Day 37: Gym Socks

Heather got a new job–again, as a barista–in a gym. She liked saying the word “gymbarista.” A lot.

“I’m-a gymbareesta!” she would say every time she left for work.

And every time, Jess would say, “I know.”

Since Heather worked at a gym now, Jess took it upon herself to start working out more. Which mostly meant she would go on the treadmill for fifteen minutes and spend the rest of the time drinking free coffee with Heather.

“You’re supposed to wear shoes on the treadmill,” Heather pointed out when Jess approached, clad in orange-and-blue polka-dot socks.

“I don’t have gym shoes. Give me a coffee, bitch.”

Heather poured her a cup, then spit in it, then handed it to Jess.

“Charming,” Jess replied, stirring the spit into her coffee along with a splash of cream.

“Wear shoes, you dirty hobo,” said Heather.

“Don’t have any. Unless snowy, muddy boots count.” Jess sipped her coffee and gave an exaggerated “Mmmmm.”

“Then buy some! Pauper princess.”

“I’m waiting to see if I like going to the gym. Shoes are an investment, Heather. Like all things.” Sip.

“You can use the money you save on coffee to buy some.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Heather rolled her eyes and made herself a tea. She had been working as a barista in some fashion or other for years, and yet she never drank coffee.

“I think you just want to show off all your sock of the month club crap.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jess said, nose in the air and eyes pressed snootily shut. She curled her toes inside the double-layer of socks she was wearing. The inside layer was woolen. So cozy.

“Wear shoes or I’ll kick you out of my gym.”

“This isn’t your gym. It’s not even a gym. It’s a fucking coffee shop with a few treadmills and shit. It’s so stupid even hipsters don’t go here. Just old men.”

“You come here.”

“I thought you were kicking me out.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You want to know what I think?”

“What’s that, dearest Jessica?”

Jess leaned over the counter, expression serious. “I think you just took this job so you could say ‘gymbarista.'”

Heather smiled. “No. I took this job so that one day you would say ‘gymbarista.’ And now my plot is finally complete.”

Then she laughed. Long, and loud, and manic, and utterly fake. It spooked the old men on the treadmills and potentially caused one of them to have a stroke. Heather returned to her old job at Starbucks a week later. Jess never bought gym shoes.



Today’s three random prompt categories were, “Gym equipment,” “A barista,” and “Socks.” I believe all three were recommended by my lovely lady friend, Emily.

I really enjoy the banter between Heather and Jess, starting with my 6th prompt, “What Does the Flamingo Say?” I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of them as the months go on.

– H



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