The Ring of Time

You look up from the clipboard as nonchalantly as you can and ask, "Is my Dad here?"

"I don't know, sonny, what's his name? Better yet, what's YOUR name? I could page him," the haggardly old lady queries. "Oh, shoot," you think. Not to mention the fact that anonymity would be right out the window, but if you even MENTION either your OR your Dad's name here, this nosy old witch would likely tell on you the next time he comes in! Realizing that leaving a signature would also be incriminating, you absent-mindedly drop the clipboard back onto the desk.

"WELL, sonny?" the old bag asks again. "Uh, nevermind. I just, um, forgot something... uh, outside," you stammer. You high-tail it out of there before she asks any more questions (or even has time to scratch her wrinkly head in confusion, really) and take up hiding again to collect your thoughts, this time BEHIND a tree, rather than UP it, remembering your aching backsides.

What to do, what to do! Time is ticking away with what may be the only hottie EVER to visit this gym doing God-knows-what in there (you take a moment to envy God)! You must decide quickly... what will you do?
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