This might not seem unusual. I've been a twink magnet for years. I picked up the waiter at a restaurant in Indianapolis just a couple of weeks ago, and last week I picked up a guy at the campus food court.
But this was different.
1. In the straight world, no one cruises at the gym, except for little kids who haven't learned the norms yet. Some of the guys are homophobic, and will respond with violent rage. You check out biceps and bulges with very brief, nonchalant glances, and never make eye contact with someone you don't know. I rarely pick up guys at straight world gyms.
2. It was at the YMCA, not the campus gym. Very few college students go there. The cardio center is occupied primarily by older men, the free weight room by serious bodybuilders and an occasional group of giggling high school boys.
This was a twink. Around 20, cute, with a long face and sharp features. Wearing a red baseball cap, so I couldn't see his hair. Too far away to see his physique.
On an exercise bicycle that faced the weight machines, staring at me while I did incline presses. Smiling.
One way to find out: the preacher curl was the only other machine that faced the exercise bikes. It wasn't nearly time for biceps, and I don't use the preacher curl, but I sat and did a few sets.
I have nice biceps, but you can't tell from a distance.
But the twink kept smiling at me.
There were half a dozen buffed older men in the weight machine room. Why me?
I went back to the free weight room, did three set of butterflies and some ab crunches, and returned.
The twink had finished his cardio and was on incline press machine. I chose another incline press a few feet away. Both looked directly at a mirror.
He was wearing one of those slit-side t-shirts. Pale skin, pinprick nipples, tight but not muscular -- I could see his ribs, and some tattoo writing on his chest. He was lifting only 130 pounds (I do 270).
I looked away, flustered.
How could I concentrate on my weight training with this kid gaping at me like a lovesick puppy dog?
Was he mentally unbalanced? High?
I returned to the free weight room, did some tricep pushdowns, and grinned like an idiot at the high school kid struggling with his shoulder press across from me.
He smiled shyly and looked away.
That's the way you're supposed to do it!
Back to the weight machine room. The twink was sitting on a leg press machine, his cell phone in his hand. He looked up and smiled.
He didn't speak, but kept smiling, his eyes followed me all the way across the room to the drinking fountain, and then all the way back.
I rushed back into the free weight room and hid there for half an hour. When I returned, the twink was on an exercise bike again, this one facing away from the weight machine room.
Or not -- the moment I rushed past, I heard a "Hi!"
I turned. "Sorry, have we met? I'm not too good with faces."
"No, I'm not from here," he said, smiling. "I'm in town visiting my Dad."
"Where are you from?"
"San Francisco. Well, Berkeley. My Mom is a professor, but I just work for Verizon."
That explains why he didn't know the rules of straight-world cruising!
We ended up at the gay-friendly coffee house, and then at my apartment, where I went down on the twink -- his name was Cade. Average sized but very hard, very big spurt. Then he threw his legs in the air, but I pushed him down and topped him in the interfemoral position. We washed off, and then he tried interfemoral with me.
"I loved San Francisco," I told him as we lay in bed afterwards. "It's Gay Heaven."
"You need a gimmick," I told him.
"Here on the Plains, it's easy -- all I have to do is smile, and they line up. You're the third guy I hooked up with at the gym this week."
Maybe I should start smiling at guys at the gym.
See also: My Ex-Student Naked at the Gym.