You're a mystery to me.
Almost every time I'm at the gym, you are there. Why do I notice you? Because of all the people in the place, you are the only one who works out in denim. Most others go for comfortable, breathable fabrics - but not you. You're a rebel.
At first I thought you were just some guy who was checking out the place to see if he likes it, but you kept showing up day after day to work out in your jeans. (If you can afford the membership, you can afford sweatpants.) As I run on the treadmill and see you pull up in your Trailer-Trash-busted-up 4x4, I wonder if today will be the day that you ditch the jeans. Then I see you work out, leave without showering, (ewww) and light up a smoke before you peel away from the parking lot.
I'll correct myself: You're not a mystery - you're an idiot.
And I feel dumber for having wasted my brain on pondering your existence.