You aren't used to this

You haven't run since high school and you didn't much like it then but you set off anyway, lugging along the knapsack that contains all of your earthly possessions.

Luckily (at least you think it's lucky at first), the running path is broken fairly regularly by exercise equipment... there's a chinup bar, a set of planks you're supposed to balance on, some sort of exercise machine that involves pushing metal rods with your elbows, and so forth. All of which means you get to stop running after a few hundred feet and do something else.

Still, this whole exercise thing isn't easy.

Even more frustrating is that girls keep running past you, going what looks like three or four times as fast, and chatting away to their friends like they're not doing anything special. In what universe are girls better at sports than guys? (This universe, you realize).

You're almost around the park, reaching toward what's probably the last machine of the round when, all of a sudden, your stomach cramps up. You collapse to the ground and start puking up what's left of last night's vodka plus this morning's coffee.

The black girl who told you to run jogs up and looks down on you. "God that's disgusting."

"Yeah, sorry." You certainly aren't going to disagree with her.

"You need me to call an ambulance or something?"

"No. Just overdid it." Shit... health insurance. You got it through your company which means if you go to the hospital now, you'll be stuck with those huge bills and no income.

"Okay. Good luck." She jogs away.

You're still retching but you manage to turn your head to watch her ass as she runs. Fuck, it looks good.

Somehow, you promise yourself, you're going to get a girl... maybe several girls... and fuck them in the ass.