The other day I was minding my own business in Battersea when a dude on a bike came over to chat to me. At first I didn’t notice the grey sweats as I was distracted by his mum’s bike with a basket. I mean, this wasn’t the coolest bike I’d ever seen but the confidence, that was all grey sweats. But wait, let me go back to grey sweats.
Why Grey Sweats?
So a man who lives in grey sweats loves his body and his dick. He’s all about the physical and he’s all about you knowing about it. It’s a wrapped up wasteman with way too much time on his hands but he looks like he’s got no time to put on real clothes. It’s super power confidence. It’s a beautiful thing when it’s not abused. That level of self belief that you can come out of your house in house / gym clothes is what we all aspire to. But it’s so abused! I don’t understand why women fall for these men but know that this is the male equivalent of booty shorts..
Grey sweat priors
I don’t know who started this phenomenon but I blame gyms. I remember being in Fitness First in 2001 and avoiding the mirror / weights / grey sweat area. It felt like walking across an auction block. And how were they in the gym ALL DAY in their grey sweats and it’s supposedly sexy? Nah
I met one on the way back from Sainsburys once and he offered to carry my bags home with me. (early dating day error. Never let them know where you live!). As he told me his story it became apparent that he was a wasteman and I tried to extricate myself. Living at home, jobless, directionless, trying to pick up women on the streets. The usual wasteman M.O.
So back to Mr . Bike. I’ there with my suitcase waiting for an uber. 6 minutes! Ugh. He pulls his bike in front of me blocking me from going anywhere and he starts the chirps. I look at the rusty bell on the handle and wonder how old this bike is. This bike could be older than me! I’m convinced that it belongs to his mum. I make it clear that I’m not interested. I don’t even bother using the boyfriend line as grey sweats don’t care. I just stop answering him. He tells me about him. I don’t listen. He tells me I’ll be lucky to get with him because he’s a good catch. I swear he’s in his 20s. We are not a match. I will the uber to come quicker but it’s a Saturday. I finally tell him that I don’t date guys in grey sweats. He actually jumps back and the bike wobbles. I don’t think he knows what this means but, I know. And my uber pulls up and I manage to wrestle my suitcase into the back and get away.
A guy that wears grey sweats as a pulling tool? Like a whole superhero cape? Nah. It’s just not for me. I wish them a stay blessed and all women that date them a happy dating!
© Chelsea Black 2019 fffffff