Dear Buff Man in denim

Today you caught me staring at you.  It wasn't necessarily staring, but we made awkward eye contact...  Not because of your perfectly tanned body and nice looking muscles.  (Confession: that is the first thing that did catch my eye).  No, what kept me staring was the sight of your shirtless self playing tennis.  In tight blue jeans. Hello?  I'm trying to work here.  I will be the first to admit it- you were cute.  But I just could not reconcile the blue jeans while playing tennis. Shirtless (it was not hot outside).  I have the same feeling when I see someone walking/running the bridge in jeans or jorts.  It just can't possibly end well for you.  Those things are just not for sports... or any kind of running.  Denim and athletics is just not a good situation.  For anyone.  And every time you hit it toward your opposing partner you would yell "Come on baby."  Ew.  And your partner.  In her little tennis outfit.  We all know how I feel about this.  She would make some kind of grunt every time she hit it.  Trust me.  She was no Venus.  I think Mama from Mama's used cars could hit the ball harder.  With no pansy grunt.  I was about to ask her if she needed some instruction. I just couldn't take it.  If I have to hear "yeah baby" or "come on baby" one more time...

I almost threw up. 

And yes.  I did creepily and stealthily sneak a pic from my client's porch.  I couldn't help it...