The day I was “that” girl.

Last Friday night, I had plans. Friends and I from church had planned to help out with a movie night at a ministry in East Nashville., but after it rained for several das straight (much needed rain, so I can’t complain), the movie night was canceled. (It was supposed to be held outdoors.)

Via text, one of my friends had mentioned maybe going out for ice cream later that evening, which seemed like a good idea to me, but we really didn’t discuss the details of when, where, and who was driving. When I left work a little after 4 p.m., I figured I had enough time to squeeze in a quick workout at the gym, then go home, eat supper, and be ready for an ice cream excursion, which I assumed would be an early evening excursion—around 7 or 7:30 p.m.

On the way to the gym, I called a friend of mine whose mother is in the hospital, thinking he probably needed to hear a friendly voice. As our conversation wrapped up, I walked into the gym, still on the phone and nodded hello to the Y employees while they scanned my card. Then, I hung up and walked into the locker room to change clothes. As I was putting on my shoes, my phone rang again. I saw it was my friend, likely calling to tell me about evening plans, but I was busy, so I let it go through to voicemail. As I was leaving the locker room, I called her right back.

So let’s recap. I entered the gym on the phone. I changed clothes. I left the locker room on the phone. So I go upstairs to the workout area. I’m planning to either run or ride the bikes, but I’m still talking to a friend. After a few minutes of conversation, she tells me that she’ll be at my house to pick me up around 6:15 p.m. or so.

It’s 5:30ish at this point.

I quickly realized a workout, even a short one, was not in the cards, because there’s no way I can be ready for a 6:15 p.m. pick-up if I’m just starting a workout at 5:30 p.m. AND have to drive home AND shower before going anywhere.

Oh, and I hadn’t had supper.

So I give up on the workout and head back downstairs toward my car. I enter the welcome area of the YMCA, STILL ON MY PHONE.

To the Y staff, it appears all I’ve done since arriving is talk on the phone, ignore others around me, change clothes for a workout I clearly did not complete, and now I’m leaving. On the phone.

I’m not that person, really.

Except I guess for last Friday, when I was.

Embarrassed and still chatting, I said to my friend on the phone, “Well, I guess I’ll go home. Let me just wipe this pretend sweat off my face from my pretend hard workout.”

Mind you, I’m in the lobby of the Y, right in front of the desk where the staff is sitting, and I actually do the motion with my arm as I’m talking.

(I can’t help it. I talk with my hands.)

As I turn to leave, I think I hear one of the staff members, the one we’ll call The Cute Guy, say, “Are you leaving already?!”

And I just kept walking.

Because I’m that girl.