Tag: gym

Violet goes to gym

So it’s like mercury is retrograding over here because apart from all my internet woes I got in the shower this morning and snap crackle boom, nearly got electrocuted. Well, kind of. I got a huge shock from the taps, not huge enough to kill me but huge enough for me to think oh my god what is going on and leap out the shower very quickly.

With shampoo and delicious smelling vanilla soap all over my body.

It happened to me once in Lima, many years ago, and that was kind of hairy, but I digress.

I called my emergency electrician.

I can only come tomorrow Ms Violet.  But it sounds dangerous, don’t switch on any taps and stay well away from the water.

What to do? My neighbours seemed to be away, or perhaps dead in their own showers. Either way, they couldn’t help me.

I needed to shower.

I had no choice but to go to the gym.

I hate the gym.

But you know there’s a silver line behind every cloud!

I skipped the gym part and headed straight to the sauna. Smelling a bit like a vanilla pod.

Let me tell you, men in saunas like the smell of vanilla.

And there were a lot of men in the sauna.

All of them, experts on electricity. All of them offering me advice. All of them offering me their showers.

None of them offering to fix it for me quickly which is kind of expected because MEN, but I did come home with four new contacts, a prospective date, and a very clean shiny and detoxed body.

Only problem is, a few hours is a long time to sit in a sauna and I’m home now and very bloody dehydrated and I can’t yet switch on my taps.

I may have to go back to the gym.

Where’s my shampoo?


N.B. If I do get electrocuted, blame one of these guys.

The thing about gym

I’m on a kind of detox.

Apart from all the wild drugs that I’ve stopped injecting and the copious magnums of champagne I am not drinking, I’m also not dating.

No men.

I am spending time alone, looking within, meditating, breathing slowly and drinking fruit juice.

I’ve deleted the dating app off my phone and blocked numbers of any men who may tempt me.

Instead of dabbling in online extra murals I spend my days in a healthy manner.

I wake up, take out my gym clothes, squeeze oranges, wander around the house, open my computer, close my computer, check the fridge, stare aimlessly into space, moisturise, open and close again, check my neck for wrinkles, read, nap and yawn.

It’s very fucking boring.

I was doing quite well until the phone rang. I answered, mostly because I had nothing else to do. It was an old gay friend; I figured I was safe.

Hey Violet.

He sounded super excited.

Hi. I did not sound as excited.

What’s up?

I have someone here who wants to talk to you . You’re never going to believe who it is, jeez!

He handed the phone over. I didn’t know who it could be and didn’t care that much, suffering from severe men phone computer withdrawal stuff.

Violet. Is that really you? You won’t believe it,  this is X.


Twenty years, I thought. Twenty years, at least. Sweet Goddesses.

I’d had this huge crush on X when I was younger. He was older than me and I was never even sure he knew I existed. Except for the day that I left Zimbabwe. I had a book for all my friends to write messages in. Goodbye messages. X took over a whole page and I remember feeling so excited.

ButI went to live in a foreign country and that was the end of my crush on X.

Until now.


On the phone.

While I was on a man detox.

What is a girl supposed to do?

Can we meet, he asked. I would so love to see you, would be amazing to catch up.

I thought about him. It would be cool, sure, to see someone from another life.

I thought about my skin that didn’t really need more moisturising. The opening and closing couldn’t be good for my Mac.  And I never wanted to squeeze another bloody orange.

But I also looked at the gym clothes that were lying on my bed .The ones that I never got to put on.

I did not need X in my life. At that moment. But I did need to get to the gym.

Hey, it’s good to hear from you, I said.  But I’m kinda busy now. Leave me your number though, maybe I’ll call you back. 

And I headed off to gym.

The start of my real detox.

Which I gotta say,  feels pretty damn good.



‘Older man seeking younger woman’

What is it about older men dating younger women?  We women of a certain age are sexy. And interesting, experienced, bright, funny, and did I mention, we’ve very very sexy.

We bring a hellova lot to the party.

We might not be as toned as we were a couple of years ago and maybe we have a few wrinkles (just a few, dammit) but god we have so much else. We’re sexually aware and uninhibited.  We know what we want and we’re not scared to go after it.

So what is it with men?  My best friend is dating a girl twenty years younger than him and it makes me crazy.  I mean, I really like her, but – twenty years younger – it’s insane.

I come across this often. The older man seeking an ‘attractive young woman’.


I think older men want someone who will remind them that they are still breathing. Stroke there ego. Tell them they are fantastic in bed.  Give them back their power when they make a younger woman come.

And it does go the other way too. A lot of young women quite like the idea of an older man. And this is not always about love or  mutual connection. I think it’s about money and power which are both really appealing.

A man who can provide financial stability, pay for overseas tickets and keep a woman in a constant supply of French underwear and champagne can be kind of hard to resist.

In other words, a Sugar Daddy is fabulous!

I try and embrace my age. With age comes a certain confidence as well as a sense of adventure. We lose a lot of fear as we get older and are more willing to explore new things.

But we’re also aware we need to look after ourselves, work out, keep trim and healthy.

Which is why I go to the gym.

I spend a lot of time in the sauna where between sweating and death everyone talks. It’s a great way to get to know people.

Yesterday I was chatting to a young man. It was fun and we sorted out the South African education system, compared our favourite single malts and even flirted a little. I didn’t think of it as flirting though, but when we were walking out he asked for my number.

I choked. He was in his twenties.

When I said ‘no’ it was mostly because I was in shock and didn’t want to be seen as a cougar. And because I have been so judgemental about older men. And younger women. And everyone else.

But mostly because it terrified me. This young guy. With his man bun. Firm muscles. And gorgeously sculpted six pack. And what he might think of my not so perfect body.

Anyway. He persuaded me. He wouldn’t listen to my thing of ‘age’ and ‘what will we talk about’ because he reminded me we’d spent half an hour in the sauna and hadn’t stopped talking. He also told me I had fabulous legs.

So I said yes. And we’re going out tonight. And I’m very very nervous. I’ll let you know how it goes, dear Reader. Every single detail. Unless it turns out he’s a friend of one of my children.

In which case, I’ll be dead.