The Gary Project - Day 5  

SilyconBond 52M  
262 posts
1/22/2021 6:56 pm

Last Read:
1/22/2021 6:57 pm

The Gary Project - Day 5


I’m having a hard time writing today down. I’ll try to stay within the lines, but I am so pissed off from this morning.
We went to my gym this morning since I have a pending project at work. Walked in, Gary was next to me. I told him we were going to start with the StairMaster today. My gym has four of them, three of them were being used.

“I can wait. You can start.” He said.
“Then wait for you? It’s ok. The one on the end reading her book will give up hers. I’ve played this fiddle before.” I said and walked to the end one and announced loudly,

“JoAnne, put your book down and get your ass off that machine so I can exercise with my friend.”
The other two women working out on their machines turned their heads towards us.
“Why should I? I was here first.” She said.
“We both know you can walk all fucking day up those stairs if you have a book in your hand, and we’ll only be fifteen minutes. How long have you been there, thirty minutes, forty-five?”
“Over an hour, but who notices such things.” She smiled.
“It’s ok, we can do something else,” Gary says. I held my hand up to him.
“JoAnne, if your butt was any tighter I could use it as a crescent wrench. What would it take so I can use your machine for fifteen minutes?” I said.

She holds her book out to me, and I sneer at it as I take it. “Nicholas Sparks? Really? I don’t think you could pick a sappier author. I’ll do it, but I won’t like it.” I said.
“That’s the fun of it for me.” She said.
So I read out loud from page 354. I started with the line I blinked “Excuse Me!” and continued reading the page changing voices on the fly, going into narrator's voice, little girl voice, (But I didn’t know the character…supposed to be a man. Jeeze.) southern bell female dialect, deep voice man,…(Again..totally fucked that up.) and finished with the “I’m going to take that as a compliment” “It is” on page 357.

Everyone around us was laughing, except Gary, he looked embarrassed.
JoAnne got off the machine and got her book from me. “Fifteen minutes.” She said laughing. She went over to the bikes and started riding one.
We got up on the machines and exercised. I was feeling icky. Five days in, and he didn’t talk to me at all during the workout. I was tempted to bring him out of his shell but decided he must be thinking of something.

The last set done. “I have something I’d like you to give Susan. Come to the locker room with me.” I said.
I opened my locker and got out a plastic bag while he sat on a bench nearby. My gym, I could take a fucking shower, and I was going to. I took off my underwear, placed it in the bag, sealed it. I wrapped my towel around me, handed the gross thing to him.

“Susan wanted this. She used my own line against me when I said I don’t do anything for free when I asked for your schedule. As promised, I worked out for three days in them. I don’t want them back, and I don’t care what she does with them.” I said.
“I don’t understand.” He said.
“My guess is she smells them. She does that with my clothes when she picks them up in the bedroom. She doesn’t smell her own clothes. Why is your face all weird?”
“After we got married, she wanted me to… I told her that was gross and I wouldn’t do it.” He said.
“It was not comfortable for me. I don’t like putting on dirty underwear, but a deal is a deal.” I said.

“I guess that’s why she has your shirt.” He said.
“Shirt? What shirt?” I asked.
“The Army one. She wears it every night to bed. She does wash it.” He said as if that would appease me.
“Black letters on grey?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He said.
“When did this shirt first appear?” I asked casually, but inside I was fuming.
“That day you took her plant shopping. I’ll give this to her.” He said.
“I’m going to take a shower, then I’m coming over to your house for a few minutes to ask her something. I’ll see you in a few.” I said and closed my locker.
“She’ll be sleeping, but I’ll wake her before you get there.” He said as he left.

The water was not cold enough to cool my temper. That day, I had worked out, left my gym bag on the backseat in my car because her plants were in the trunk. The only time it was left alone was when I went inside the QT to get bottled water. I took her home, unloaded her fucking plants. I left.
When I was unloading my bag at home to wash my stuff the shirt was not there. I assume she stuffed my shirt in that overly large LVT she carries around. I was frantic. I went to my car to look for it. I went back to Gary’s gym to look for it. Not in lost and found. I called her and asked her if she saw it. She said no.

After that call, I looked in the trash cans in the locker room. Not finding it, I went through the dumpster in the back. I was there on a fucking Saturday night at two am looking for my shirt and finding used tampons but no shirt. I opened every bag dumped them, luckily it was only a quarter filled, still.

That shirt… I have an emotional attachment. My friend loaned me that clean shirt because I worked CQ duty and couldn’t wash my clothes in time. Before I had a chance to give him the shirt back washed, we went on a twenty-six-mile hike before graduation. He broke his hip on it, but finished the march, and bleed internally to death on the way to the hospital.
They didn’t even let me go to his funeral. His body was shipped back to Ohio. Even now as I type this, I remember how kind that nineteen-year-old man was. I was having trouble keeping up the PT in the beginning because I was fat, but he inspired me. He worked out with me on our time off. Sat and joked with me while I was repairing PCs in the command. We shared many a pizza together and talked about our lives before the Army.

I remember standing in formation when we got news of his passing. I was like a zombie, went to get my washed clothes to pack, and his shirt was there. I didn’t know his family and somehow it didn’t matter. I got through the training. Then st my new station, I wore that shirt on Fridays for PT. Later, Saturdays when I went to the gym, just because Saturdays felt more appropriate.

I got out of the shower. Dressed. Got into my car and drove to Gary’s house. I had to force my face into something not angry. I knocked on the door. Nothing. I waited a minute. Took a few deep breaths. Knocked.
Susan answered the door, smiling. She opened the door wider so I could come in. I did. On that bitch’s chest was my fucking shirt. Her breath smelled like mint and her hair was brushed. I forced a smile.

“Gary said you had something to ask me? You’ve never been here so early before.”
I got closer, man, she was pretty. “How about you take off your shirt first?” I said.

“We don’t have much time, the will wake soon.” She said and pulled off the shirt. Her tits sure were nice, too bad they were on her.
I casually took it from her and whispered in her ear as I held it in a grip of iron. “Thank you for returning my shirt,” I said.
“What?” She said.

I turned around and left. She was standing on the front porch with her arm over her chest as I drove away.
I got to work. She called. I didn’t answer. I blocked her number. She lied to me. She stole from me.

The thing is, I’ve loaned this shirt out to a few women in the past. If they ask, I do. It’s comfortable, even all these years later. After all, Robert would want me to share. I don't tell them the story behind it until I ask for it back.

What a way to start 2021. It’s been a while since I was so angry. I am washing it tonight and wearing it tomorrow when I go to the gym.
I haven’t gotten a call from Gary or text. It’s not his fault. Sucks, it is hard work to find a male friend to hang out with. Most men don’t have my same schedule. I’ll have to think of something else to do with all this free time. I have Saturdays open now too.

( Confirmation 845529 )

SilyconBond 52M  
145 posts
1/22/2021 6:57 pm

I’m having a hard time writing today down. I’ll try to stay within the lines, but I am so pissed off from this morning.
We went to my gym this morning since I have a pending project at work. Walked in, Gary was next to me. I told him we were going to start with the StairMaster today. My gym has four of them, three of them were being used.

“I can wait. You can start.” He said.
“Then wait for you? It’s ok. The one on the end reading her book will give up hers. I’ve played this fiddle before.” I said and walked to the end one and announced loudly,

“JoAnne, put your book down and get your ass off that machine so I can exercise with my friend.”
The other two women working out on their machines turned their heads towards us.
“Why should I? I was here first.” She said.
“We both know you can walk all fucking day up those stairs if you have a book in your hand, and we’ll only be fifteen minutes. How long have you been there, thirty minutes, forty-five?”
“Over an hour, but who notices such things.” She smiled.
“It’s ok, we can do something else,” Gary says. I held my hand up to him.
“JoAnne, if your butt was any tighter I could use it as a crescent wrench. What would it take so I can use your machine for fifteen minutes?” I said.

She holds her book out to me, and I sneer at it as I take it. “Nicholas Sparks? Really? I don’t think you could pick a sappier author. I’ll do it, but I won’t like it.” I said.
“That’s the fun of it for me.” She said.
So I read out loud from page 354. I started with the line I blinked “Excuse Me!” and continued reading the page changing voices on the fly, going into narrator's voice, little girl voice, (But I didn’t know the character…supposed to be a man. Jeeze.) southern bell female dialect, deep voice man,…(Again..totally fucked that up.) and finished with the “I’m going to take that as a compliment” “It is” on page 357.

Everyone around us was laughing, except Gary, he looked embarrassed.
JoAnne got off the machine and got her book from me. “Fifteen minutes.” She said laughing. She went over to the bikes and started riding one.
We got up on the machines and exercised. I was feeling icky. Five days in, and he didn’t talk to me at all during the workout. I was tempted to bring him out of his shell but decided he must be thinking of something.

The last set done. “I have something I’d like you to give Susan. Come to the locker room with me.” I said.
I opened my locker and got out a plastic bag while he sat on a bench nearby. My gym, I could take a fucking shower, and I was going to. I took off my underwear, placed it in the bag, sealed it. I wrapped my towel around me, handed the gross thing to him.

“Susan wanted this. She used my own line against me when I said I don’t do anything for free when I asked for your schedule. As promised, I worked out for three days in them. I don’t want them back, and I don’t care what she does with them.” I said.
“I don’t understand.” He said.
“My guess is she smells them. She does that with my clothes when she picks them up in the bedroom. She doesn’t smell her own clothes. Why is your face all weird?”
“After we got married, she wanted me to… I told her that was gross and I wouldn’t do it.” He said.
“It was not comfortable for me. I don’t like putting on dirty underwear, but a deal is a deal.” I said.

“I guess that’s why she has your shirt.” He said.
“Shirt? What shirt?” I asked.
“The Army one. She wears it every night to bed. She does wash it.” He said as if that would appease me.
“Black letters on grey?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He said.
“When did this shirt first appear?” I asked casually, but inside I was fuming.
“That day you took her plant shopping. I’ll give this to her.” He said.
“I’m going to take a shower, then I’m coming over to your house for a few minutes to ask her something. I’ll see you in a few.” I said and closed my locker.
“She’ll be sleeping, but I’ll wake her before you get there.” He said as he left.

The water was not cold enough to cool my temper. That day, I had worked out, left my gym bag on the backseat in my car because her plants were in the trunk. The only time it was left alone was when I went inside the QT to get bottled water. I took her home, unloaded her fucking plants. I left.
When I was unloading my bag at home to wash my stuff the shirt was not there. I assume she stuffed my shirt in that overly large LVT she carries around. I was frantic. I went to my car to look for it. I went back to Gary’s gym to look for it. Not in lost and found. I called her and asked her if she saw it. She said no.

After that call, I looked in the trash cans in the locker room. Not finding it, I went through the dumpster in the back. I was there on a fucking Saturday night at two am looking for my shirt and finding used tampons but no shirt. I opened every bag dumped them, luckily it was only a quarter filled, still.

That shirt… I have an emotional attachment. My friend loaned me that clean shirt because I worked CQ duty and couldn’t wash my clothes in time. Before I had a chance to give him the shirt back washed, we went on a twenty-six-mile hike before graduation. He broke his hip on it, but finished the march, and bleed internally to death on the way to the hospital.
They didn’t even let me go to his funeral. His body was shipped back to Ohio. Even now as I type this, I remember how kind that nineteen-year-old man was. I was having trouble keeping up the PT in the beginning because I was fat, but he inspired me. He worked out with me on our time off. Sat and joked with me while I was repairing PCs in the command. We shared many a pizza together and talked about our lives before the Army.

I remember standing in formation when we got news of his passing. I was like a zombie, went to get my washed clothes to pack, and his shirt was there. I didn’t know his family and somehow it didn’t matter. I got through the training. Then st my new station, I wore that shirt on Fridays for PT. Later, Saturdays when I went to the gym, just because Saturdays felt more appropriate.

I got out of the shower. Dressed. Got into my car and drove to Gary’s house. I had to force my face into something not angry. I knocked on the door. Nothing. I waited a minute. Took a few deep breaths. Knocked.
Susan answered the door, smiling. She opened the door wider so I could come in. I did. On that bitch’s chest was my fucking shirt. Her breath smelled like mint and her hair was brushed. I forced a smile.

“Gary said you had something to ask me? You’ve never been here so early before.”
I got closer, man, she was pretty. “How about you take off your shirt first?” I said.

“We don’t have much time, the kids will wake soon.” She said and pulled off the shirt. Her tits sure were nice, too bad they were on her.
I casually took it from her and whispered in her ear as I held it in a grip of iron. “Thank you for returning my shirt,” I said.
“What?” She said.

I turned around and left. She was standing on the front porch with her arm over her chest as I drove away.
I got to work. She called. I didn’t answer. I blocked her number. She lied to me. She stole from me.

The thing is, I’ve loaned this shirt out to a few women in the past. If they ask, I do. It’s comfortable, even all these years later. After all, Robert would want me to share. I don't tell them the story behind it until I ask for it back.

What a way to start 2021. It’s been a while since I was so angry. I am washing it tonight and wearing it tomorrow when I go to the gym.
I haven’t gotten a call from Gary or text. It’s not his fault. Sucks, it is hard work to find a male friend to hang out with. Most men don’t have my same schedule. I’ll have to think of something else to do with all this free time. I have Saturdays open now too.

( Confirmation 845529 )


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