“Why are you so sweaty, soldier? Look at that. That’s a puddle of sweat forming right underneath you!”
We all have a voice inside our heads. Most of the time it just sounds like our own voice. But for some reason, the voice in my head sounds like an old, grizzled drill sergeant.
“Come on, solider! Quit sitting around. Move!”
I’m in the gym. He tends to yell at me when I’m working out.
I look down, and there is actually a puddle of sweat beneath me. I’ve always sweat a lot when I exercise. Like, a lot. Far more than a normal human should. It’s really quite incredible. And gross.
I jump up and do a set of pull ups. When I come down, I shed fresh beads of sweat onto the floor. The puddle grows.
“Look alive, solider!”
I look up, and there’s this really hot girl coming to this side of the gym. I could swear she looked at me from the corner of her eye, but I couldn’t quite tell.
She’s right over there. She starts doing squats, which seems to be the only exercise I ever see girls doing in the gym.
She finishes a set, and she definitely looks at me. She smiles, and it’s a really nice smile. Kind of like she was thinking of a line from her favorite book.
Her smile makes me sweat even more, like her teeth are radiating heat.
“Don’t just stand there, soldier. Do something!”
I don’t just stand there. I do something.
I jump up and do another set of pull ups.
I finish the set, and I’m really sweating now. Drenched.
“She’s coming over here, solider! Look alive!”
I glance over, and she’s walking right towards me. She’s smiling that same smile.
My heart starts to beat faster. Which unfortunately means that I sweat even more.
She’s looking right at me. I smile and take a step towards her. She’s almost here.
But just before she gets to the point where the word “Hey,” gently tumbles out of her mouth, she comes to the spot on the floor where I’ve been mercilessly expelling my watery waste.
As soon as she hits the sweat puddle, her feet fly out from under her. She’s instantly airborne.
I watch her float through the air almost as if she’s levitating. I can see exactly where her she’s going to land. I clench my fists in anticipation.
She comes down. And she cracks her head on one of the weightlifting benches.
“Oh shit,” I mutter.
I hurry over to her. She’s conscious, and there’s no blood.
“Are you ok?” I ask.
She pushes herself up and mumbles something incoherent. I help her to her feet.
“Are you alright?” I ask again.
“Yeahh,” she slurs. “I’m…ok.”
“Uh oh, solider. She doesn’t look so good.”
She starts to sway, and I have to keep her upright. “I’m ok,” she says again. “But I think…I might…ugh I don’t feel….I think I’m gonna…”
Then it happens.
She vomits. And every bit gets on my shirt.
“We’re under fire, solider!”
Her eyes close. She passes out. I hold on to her to make sure she doesn’t fall, which is difficult and sort of disgusting because there’s vomit all over me, and it’s starting to get on her.
I lay her down, and finally the gym attendant notices that a girl has fallen and hit her head so hard that she’s concussed to the point of heaving all over me. He calls the gym manager, and pretty soon she’s being taken care of.
I walk away, and I sit down on a bench. In my throw up encrusted shirt, I close my eyes and rub my temples.
“What happened here, soldier?”
“She hit her head, sir. Then she threw up on me, sir.”
“And why did that happen, solider?”
“Because I’m too sweaty, sir.”
“That’s right. You are one sad, sweaty sack of shit, soldier.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Don’t be sorry, soldier. Just do better.”
“I’ll try, sir. I’ll try.”
I wanted to experiment with the idea of a meet not cute again (if you’re wondering what a “meet not cute” is, you can find out by clicking here), so here we are. I’m not sure if you’ll find this funny or entertaining, but that’s ok, because I had a damn good time writing it. I do hope you enjoyed it, though.
I also like playing with the idea of the voices we have in our heads. I think using that voice is an interesting way of developing a character, or in this instance, a character within a character. But, I can’t take credit for the voice of a drill sergeant. That idea came from my very favorite book, “It’s Kind of a Funny Story,” written by the genius (and unfortunately deceased) Ned Vizzini. I just thought it lent an air of not-cuteness to this already homely story.
For some reason, I find writing these kinds of scenes incredibly enjoyable. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but I guess I don’t really care.
Until the next meeting.