Betty Blogger

It was just a normal Tuesday night at the gym. I was on the elliptical reading Vogue, hoping the latest fashion collections would inspire me to move faster so that I might fit into them. Suddenly my friend Jack appeared and jumped on the trainer next to me, annoyingly moving twice as fast as me at double the incline.

"Hi," he says. "Sooooo ... what's new? Work, races, fashion ... are you still dating that gray zone guy?"

Sigh. One needs to wear a disguise when frequenting neighborhood gyms. Not only has everyone seen you in the local bars during the past week, but they also have undoubtedly listened to you drunkenly spew out your latest dating sagas.

"Yes, I'm still in the gray, Jack. We cannot all have perfect "running through wheat fields" romances like yours. Plus it's not like I have anything else going on."