The Personal Trainer: Ugly

Brett.  I don’t know how else to describe this guy, other than calling him an a-hole… literally.

When I met Brett on Plenty of Fish, I knew right away that he was fit, driven, and good looking.  After messaging back and forth for a couple weeks, he asked me out. Instead of asking me out to coffee or dinner, Brett asked me to come visit him at work.  He was a personal trainer at LA Fitness and offered to give me a free session.  I wasn’t too thrilled, but I couldn’t pass it up.  Brett seemed very nice, polite, and confident.  His confidence actually made me very nervous for some reason.

During the next few days, I made a couple trips to Dick’s Sporting Goods and purchased new shoes and workout clothes so I looked good during our session.  OKAY- here’s a big no-no for me.  Don’t buy new clothes just to impress someone.  Wear what you are comfortable with, no matter the date activity, (I know I have mentioned this before).

“When you get here, you have to check-in at the front desk. They’ll call me when you arrive.  Oh, and act like you’re my cousin; I told them I have family coming.”

Five minutes before I get there, he told me to pretend I’m family when I first see him… okay, umm?  When I arrived, I told the woman at the front that I was there to see Brett and I am his cousin.  AWKWARD.  He came around the corner and approached me with a big hug and said, “Willow! So good to see you! How long are you in town for?” Long story short, I played along with this pretend banter until we walked upstairs.

The next 60 minutes of this date was horrifying.  I don’t think it would have been as bad if I knew previously that I was going to get my butt kicked by this personal trainer.  He seriously bossed me around, telling me what weights to do, with what weight, with only 30-second breaks in between.  60 minutes of this guy barking at me and not once did he begin a conversation having to do with himself, me, or life in general.

After the hour was up, Brett walked me down to the parking garage and kissed me on the cheek when we said goodbye. He told me he’d like to get together again and said he’d call me soon.

So far, Brett seemed like a normal guy.  Yes, he was a little awkward during our “date,” but maybe he was just nervous that his coworkers would find out he is giving a free session to someone who is not family…

Late that evening, I started receiving text messages from Brett.  He started out simply, saying how good I looked, how great I did, and how he’d like to see me again.  Slowly, his comments and questions turned purely perverse.  He started talking about my butt, (I will refrain from using his graphic words in the next couple paragraphs). He talked about what he wanted to do to my butt, my breasts, my body.  He continued to ask for nude pictures, filthy responses and was very specific with what he wanted.

Now, ladies.  Let me share my beliefs on sharing nude photos and sexting, (I am not saying my way is the right way- I am simply sharing my own view.  I fully support the fact that everyone has their own beliefs.) I, 100%, believe that my body, my butt, my breasts, my sexuality, my suggestive thought or conversation, is meant for my husband.  Do I have a husband? No.  So, should I be sharing any of it with a guy I barely know? No.  Think about it… If you are married, pretend that your spouse asked you, “How many men have seen you naked?” or, “How many men have pictures of you on their phones right now?” I don’t know about you, but I would love my husband to know he is the only one, (or that he’s one of two). The point is, he’d want that number to be low.  Or think of it the opposite way! How many girls do you want seeing your man or how many girls would you like to hear have his naked pics on their phone?

Don’t get me wrong, I totally think that suggestive pictures and conversation can bring excitement and fun to your relationships; I am not against that at all.  It’s when you’ve shared so much of yourself with multiple men that have zero potential for husbandry- that is what to steer clear of. Flirt, for goodness sake, flirt! But, girl.  Save your body. Save your nudity for your man, your forever man, (or at least the man who you see that potential with).

Now, back to Brett.

After telling him multiple times that I would not send him any nude pictures, he made one last suggestion and told me exactly what he wanted me to show him. I received a picture, Brett’s anus, clear as day.

Well. Um. BYE.

Aaaand, BLOCKED.

I don’t think I’ve ever had to say this, but I think I’d rather receive a dick pic than an anus pic.  I just didn’t know I should’ve mentioned that on my dating profile.


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