There is this gal at the gym, she’s a Sagittarius with a Virgo Moon which means she likes to talk! So this is what she does. She talks to everyone, everywhere, all the time.

Now she works out as well. Are you kidding? This is one healthy Virgo!! She gets on the cross-trainer for an hour and half, which is pretty much unheard of. And if you happen to be on the machine next to her, she will talk to you non-stop or at least until someone passes by, in which case she will stop talking to you while she talks to them and once they leave, she’ll talk to you again.

Off the cross trainer, she roams the weight machine taking to everyone she knows which is every single person in the place.

Now she happens to be an African woman in her late forties, who looks thirty but she will talk to you if you’re black, white, red, orange or green. She will talk to you if you are 72 or 17, obese or anorexic, it makes no difference. And if she sounds annoying, she’s not. She just isn’t. She’s not boring for some reason.

And I notice she changes her talking (she’s mutable) depending on who she’s talking to. I mean, she’s always about God, but she will definitely talk more “slang” with me, than she will with a white gentleman. And that’s what she’ll call him too. “Now that white gentleman over there says this or this…” ::smiles::

Okay, so she does gossip. She will tell you who is crazy, for example. “That one right there,” she’ll say indicating some young Mexican guy. “That one is crazy. Do you know him? That guy is loco. He’s crazy as jaybird! I don’t even try to talk to him anymore.”

Or she’ll point to some young African woman, “She don’t like to talk. If you ask me… just between me and you, I think she’s just a little snooty.”

“Yeah?”

“But that’s okay! To each his own! To each his own, don’t you think?”

And no matter what she says, I always laugh. Until today.

She approached me on the crosstrainer. “How are you?” she asked. She doesn’t know my name. She knows me, but not my name. I don’t think she knows anyone’s name.

“I’m good, how are you?”

“You’ve got them all talking,” she said. “This whole gym is talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Everyone in here is talking about you,” she said, swinging her arms around.

“Excuse me? You say people are saying something about me? Here? In this gym.”

“Hell, yeah!” she said as if she was testifying in court. They all talk about you, all the time. Take my word for it. They do. They talk and they talk about you!”

I stared at her and sort of shook my head. “I don’t think I want to know. They talk about me? Me? Why?”

She just laughed so I blushed.

“Okay, well I’m glad you enjoy it,” I said.

“I do. I do,” she said. “I like to know what’s goin’ on. I like to know what people are talking about and they definitely talk about you all the time.”

“Okay, fine. So tell me. What do they say?”

“They see all you do in here. You know. They see what you can do and say, man I wish I could do that. Ooh, yeah.”

I smiled and decided to give her some grist for her mill. “Yeah, well I do like to work out. But that’s because I want to have sex, see. I want to be as sexually attractive as humanly possible…”

She interrupted me, laughing and I smirked. I wanted her to have some gossip to spread, you know? I decided to be a paying slot machine.

“Yeah, there is only one reason I come here and that’s it. I am getting old and the last thing… well you know what I mean,” I said with my biggest grin. “You know what I’m talking about…” I figured she’d have no problem filling in the details.

“I do, girl. I know exactly what you mean…”

Shortly after that, she made her exit and crossed the gym. To go spread the news, I’m sure.

Watching her walk away, I laughed to myself. There goes… wait a minute! I don’t know her name either.

Do you have a neighborhood Sagittarius? Or are you a neighborhood Sagittarius? Tell us.