An Open Letter To The Dude At My Gym Wearing a See-Through Nipple Shirt
I wanted to thank you so much for wearing that see-through crocheted black nipple-shirt while you were working out today. The fellas' and I were talking about it in the locker room and agreed that there truly aren't enough people comfortable displaying nipple in public. You, sir, are a fashion pioneer. Why bother with things like cloth, comfort or sanitation when you can tell the world, here are my nipples, here me roar. I'm proud, I'm scantily attired and I'm ready to bench two sets of 45s on the bench press.
Perhaps the only thing more impressive than the showy curvature of your muscles was your platinum white hair. Indeed, few 60-year old men can pull off the butch Barry Manilow look with such verve and vigor. Not only did you succeed, I even heard one of the girls at the front desk ask, "do you think we need to call security on that dude?" And by security, I think she meant sex.
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I also was quite inspired by your sartorial flair. Only a true fashionista would pair high socks with short shorts (or an NBA player circa 1977-1983). Coupled with your see-through nipple shirt, I think you might have succeeded in covering up a whopping 17 percent of your flesh. Kudos. There are many things I like to think about when working out: taxes, the Kashmir question (like Puffy said, it's all about the partition, baby) and the occasional rumination on how sound it was to cast Tiffani Amber-Thiessen as Leon Phelp's love interest in The Ladies Man. But not today. Today, the only thought going through my head was: is this guy a meth-head or just a plain pervert? As Phelps himself might say, "yeah, thass cool."
Ultimately, your decision to dazzle the entire Gold's Gym with your niptastic display of skin, led me to question my entire place in the Cosmos. Why go through the motions of living when I know that someone else will always look infinitely more superior while working out? One might ask why I couldn't just buy my own see-through nipple shirt, but that isn't the point. I'm no poseur. There's only one original and that's you! You sassy fellow. In the meantime, each day, I shall live in shame, knowing damn well the astounding fashion potential you wield each time you grab that lat pull bar. You best believe, I will dedicate the rest of my life living up to the example that you have set. The bar has raised high. Nipple-high.
Thank you for making me a better person,
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