The Style | Humor...But Not Really
Modeling is now back in my life, as you well know, so, I spend 6 nights a week at the Equinox on 19th street. There’s a lot going on in there that feels a little off; firstly, my stalker. Yes, I said stalker. A 70 year old man has decided that I am his new Silence Of The Lambs pray, and in the most timely manor, waits at approximately 8:45 “stretching,” outside the woman’s locker room, to talk before I leave to go HOME TO MY BEAUTIFUL BOYFRIEND, (just in case he reads this). I have a best blond friend, who recently came as my guest, and had the pleasure of meeting my stalker. I clearly said under no circumstances do we stop for this man, he could say that the gym is on fire, we were to keep walking. It did not go down as planned. “Claire, I see you, come back here and say hello,” he yelled at my friend and I. Again, I repeat blond friend, then says, “Hi it’s her birthday.” The thing is, there are universal stalker rules. Firstly, you tell you’re stalker NOTHING ABOUT YOURSELF. What was weird, was he then said, “How old are you turning, 16?” This is bad for 2 reasons. First, if I was turning 16, why are you, a 70 year old man, talking to me? Secondly, do I look SOOOO much older than 16, it’s the most implausible age I could be? …insult. The whole thing was just bad. Gyms are for sweating, steaming, and going home. I do not want to be spoken to unless I have my most feared nightmare take place, an Elliptical accident. If you are to witness this, please assist me quietly and non-judgmentally to the nearest cab, and or hospital.
Thank You, Claire.