And I know this because in a dream the other night, we went on a date.
What a colossally self-absorbed jerk. The whole time, all he wanted to talk about is when and how much I work out because this is all he cares about.
"So, when you get up in the morning, what's your first workout? Running? Swimming?" I didn't answer.
He asked me this question while we were out on a run together. And after the run, he got onto his bike to go for a ride while I swam in a river near the road.
And because I'm a badass, I was swimming fast enough to keep up with him on his bike. But I knew this would be our first and last date/workout/triathlon.
After the all-day workout, he took me to his parents' outdoor restaurant somewhere in dusty, rural Texas. It was a collection of picnic tables under a long tent.
I must say, his father is a lovely person - so sweet and friendly - I felt like I'd known him all my life. While Lance was working the tables like a plastic politician I was helping his father serve food & bus tables.
His father asked me how the date was going with a look on his face like he knew the answer he was likely to get.
I told him there was no way I could put up with an ass like his son after all the shit I'd been through in the past - it just isn't worth it. His father nodded in agreement and we said a warm goodbye.
David agrees that he's a total ass because he screwed up a relationship with Cheryl Crow. She seems so nice and so easygoing, he'd have to be an idiot to mess that up.
So, sorry Lance, but I have to ask that you never call me again. And my first workout of the day is pushing the button on the espresso machine.
(I know, quite a departure from the previous post, but Debbie Downer is a drag.)