I have never ever joined a gym, much less enter a gym as I have been gifted by a fast metabolism. My boyfriend never had to lie to the much dreaded "Am I fat?" question. Some people sigh in envy that I'm so lucky I was naturally thin and even sexy (though I'm really flat- chested. Thanks to maximers, my boobs are proportioned to my somewhat J.Lo butt). To make them feel better, I always tell them that once I get pregnant, it would all catch up on me.

When 2004 came in, a well known (and expensive) gym opened near the restaurant. A good 2 minute walk. I was thinking that it would be a good new year's resolution to join the gym. After all, it was time I start toning my muscles and with all the crap I've been eating for the last 23 years of my life (trust me, my daily intake is 50% junkfood or chocolates, as I consider them a basic food group), I surely need to take care of myself.

January. February. March. My New Year's resolution became "to join the gym in 2005 (no particular month)." I was that lazy.

Today, I was surprised that my dad signed up at the gym. It was a bloody miracle (say that again with matching British accent, please!). It's been years that we asked him to enlist in one and was practically like pulling teeth to do so. When he got back to the office, he was holding a Grilled Chicken Caesar sandwich and a tumbler of a fruit shake. The sandwich was good! I told him that I wanted one too but since I'm not a member, they won't let me in.

We went to the gym and he introduced me to the receptionist as his daughter (doi!) and told them that I'll be coming over once in awhile to buy food for him (good lie, which will probably be true anyway). We went upstairs where I bought a sandwich for myself. I was amazed at how high tech it was. In a span of one minute, I waved to like three people I know. It was a good place to hang out and socialize sans the workout. And then, I realized:

While the rest of them came here to lose weight, I came here to buy food.