Weights and Maybe a Date — Gym Shenanigans in Patts innit

[Stocky]

It's a refreshing change from endless whinging and moaning.

[FolkGuitar]

2 hours ago, Harrisfan said:

What do you gain from fake stories?

As a retired English professor, rather a lot!
I'll be happy to recommend some if you'd like to try. 🙂

[Harrisfan]

5 minutes ago, FolkGuitar said:

As a retired English professor, rather a lot!
I'll be happy to recommend some if you'd like to try. 🙂

I think you need to get out more.

[CallumWK]

2 hours ago, Harrisfan said:

What do you gain from fake stories?

 

If anyone, I think you would be the one to know the answer

[Celsius]

It was a Tuesday evening, a time when Patts Inn — a gym that smelled perpetually of old socks and shattered dreams — truly came alive. Lewie, a man whose enthusiasm regularly outstripped his actual ability, was midway through what he optimistically called a "bench press session." In reality, it was more of a valiant struggle against gravity, made all the more intense by the presence of Ploy. Ploy was doing pull-ups with the effortless grace of a spider monkey, making Lewie's grunts sound even more pathetic by comparison.
"Just a few more, Lewie, you got this!" she chirped, a hint of suppressed laughter in her voice. Lewie, face a shade of puce usually reserved for overripe tomatoes, managed one last, shaky rep before the barbell threatened to stage a hostile takeover of his trachea.
"Cheers, Ploy," he wheezed, wiping a torrent of sweat from his brow. "You make that look like… breathing. What's your secret? Are you secretly a robot sent from the future to make us mere mortals feel bad?"
Ploy hopped down, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Just consistency, and not letting your ego write cheques your muscles can't cash. Unlike some people I know who skip leg day to focus on their 'glamour muscles'." She winked, and Lewie felt a familiar blush creep up his neck. His attempts to flirt with Ploy usually ended with him dropping something heavy or accidentally joining a Zumba class.
Suddenly, a sound like a small car crash echoed from the back of the gym. Barry, the gym's resident strongman-in-training, had just attempted to deadlift a weight so astronomical it probably had its own gravitational pull. The barbell, groaning under the strain, decided it had had enough and plummeted to the floor, narrowly missing his toes. Barry, a man whose grunts were usually mistaken for an approaching train, let out a yelp that was surprisingly high-pitched.
"Barry, mate, you okay?" Lewie called out, torn between genuine concern and the desperate urge to ask if he'd just invented a new dance move called the "Accidental Weight Drop Shimmy."
Barry, his face a vibrant shade of beetroot, scrambled to collect the runaway plates. "Just… a momentary lapse in judgment! The bar clearly wasn't feeling it today!" he huffed, glaring at the innocent barbell as if it had personally insulted his lineage.
Ploy, ever the voice of reason (and sarcasm), strolled over. "Barry, maybe try a weight that doesn't require a permit to lift? We're not trying to find out if the floor can withstand a small earthquake."
Barry, surprisingly subdued, mumbled, "Yeah, yeah, you're probably right. I blame the lighting."
As the gym returned to its usual symphony of clanking iron and the occasional grunt of existential dread, Lewie seized his moment. "Hey, Ploy," he began, trying for an air of nonchalance that was entirely absent, "I was thinking of grabbing a bite after this. There's that new burger place, 'The Beefy Banger'? I hear their burgers are so good, they'll make you forget all about Barry's deadlifts."
Ploy paused, a slight smirk playing on her lips. Lewie held his breath, bracing for the inevitable "I'm busy washing my hair" excuse. "The Beefy Banger, eh?" she said, "I've heard their sweet potato fries are so good, they're practically a religious experience."
Lewie's internal organs did a spontaneous jig. "They are! So, uh, fancy experiencing a religious epiphany with me?"
She looked at him, a twinkle in her eye. "Sure, Lewie. But only if you promise not to tell them you train at Patts Inn, or spill your entire drink on me this time."
Lewie beamed, the earlier gym chaos now a distant, humorous memory. "Deal! But no promises about Barry not trying to deadlift the entire building next week."
As they headed towards the exit, the lingering scent of disinfectant and the faint whisper of ambition, Lewie felt a definite win. Weights? Check. A date? Double check. And a solid twenty minutes of gym-based comedy for future anecdotes. Patts Inn, for all its questionable charm, had delivered. And Lewie, miraculously, hadn't dropped a single thing.

 

[Harrisfan]

6 minutes ago, CallumWK said:

 

If anyone, I think you would be the one to know the answer

No idea weirdo. I only post the truth.

[BLMFem]

9 hours ago, proton said:

 

It's just click bait to drum up traffic on an ailing forum, no need to reply once posted

Well, he's certainly succeeding as he hasn't started a single thread that you haven't posted in, has he.

 

Lewie London, the forum's undisputed grumpy git whisperer!

[Harrisfan]

28 minutes ago, BLMFem said:

Well, he's certainly succeeding as he hasn't started a single thread that you haven't posted in, has he.

 

Lewie London, the forum's undisputed grumpy git whisperer!

Is he you?

[BLMFem]

Just now, Harrisfan said:

Is he you?

Well, well, talking about grumpy gits......😄

[Harrisfan]

10 minutes ago, BLMFem said:

Well, well, talking about grumpy gits......😄

No? Sounds like you

[save the frogs]

Lewie is going through every possible permutation of scenarios one may encounter in Pattaya.

 

It should be turned into travel guide fantasy-comedy-horror . 

 

 

[Prubangboy]

22 hours ago, Lewie London said:

loves her durian smoothies,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and hates cardio even more than I do, reckons burpees were invented by Satan himself. Can’t argue with that bit.

 

After an hour of muckin’ about, she says she’s starvin’ and asks if I fancy joinin’ her for lunch at the noodle gaff across the street. Next thing I know we’re sat there slurpin’ tom yum together, talkin’ about everything from Thai soap operas with more plot twists than a government cabinet reshuffle to how the gym mirrors make you look like a boiled prawn.

 

Before we part ways she flashes me her Line ID on a QR and I add her. Then she says we should train together again soon. Sweet one, but this is Pattaya, problem is you never know if you’re helpin’ a damsel in distress or starin’ down the barrel of your next cautionary tale.
 

What do you reckon? Give her a go?

I have never laid eyes on a durian smoothie. Has anyone here?

[still kicking]

19 hours ago, blaze master said:

Why is there an em dash in every post by this member. Also why has the op never replied to any of the threads. 

Bob is too busy running several accounts.

[SamSaraburi]

22 hours ago, Lewie London said:

So I’m down the gym yesterday morn, yeah. Me usual twice-a-week shuffle on the treadmill, whether I need it or not lads, bit of token bicep curling to keep the bingo wings at bay. Not there to break records, nah, just keep the pipes in working order, know what I mean?

 

Anyway, I clock this bird across the way, strugglin’ with the lat pulldown like she’s tryin’ to launch a space rocket backwards. She’s leanin’ so far back she’s practically horizontal, legs kickin’ all about like she’s wrestlin’ an angry ghost. Thought she was gonna catapult herself straight through the bloody mirror, mates.

 

So I stroll over, all casual, give her the nod, and drop a quick tip on how not to snap her spine like a KitKat. She blushes, says thanks in that cute way Thai girls do when they know they’ve just made a total muppet of themselves. Then she asks if I could show her a couple more machines so she doesn’t end up in traction.

 

One thing leads to another, we’re movin’ around the gym floor together, me showin’ her how not to turn herself into a pretzel on the leg press, her laughing at me dumb jokes about gym bros who skip leg day. Turns out she’s a grad student here on a gap year from Chiang Mai, loves her durian smoothies, and hates cardio even more than I do, reckons burpees were invented by Satan himself. Can’t argue with that bit.

 

After an hour of muckin’ about, she says she’s starvin’ and asks if I fancy joinin’ her for lunch at the noodle gaff across the street. Next thing I know we’re sat there slurpin’ tom yum together, talkin’ about everything from Thai soap operas with more plot twists than a government cabinet reshuffle to how the gym mirrors make you look like a boiled prawn.

 

Before we part ways she flashes me her Line ID on a QR and I add her. Then she says we should train together again soon. Sweet one, but this is Pattaya, problem is you never know if you’re helpin’ a damsel in distress or starin’ down the barrel of your next cautionary tale.
 

What do you reckon? Give her a go?

No graduate is going to patty’s for a gap year

[rattlesnake]

To the handlers of this account, I recommend dropping the "innits" to make it a little less unrealistic.