A. Do you think the female bodybuilder ever finds true love?
B. Every single one? Or do you have a specific example
A. All of them. The whole genus.
A. You know I didn’t take a science class after my junior year of high school
B. I am also winging it.
A. I don’t think they do.
B. Not a single one? Ever?
A. No. Not really. Not real love.
B. Not like we had.
A. Too soon.
A. She’s too… I can’t put my finger on it
A. That’s part of it, but.
A. Also part, but. I,
B. Out with it
A. How did she happen? I don’t trust it.
B. So you think that the desire to arrive at that body is a sickness
A. I didn’t say that.
B. Didn’t you?
B. Don’t bullshit yourself!
A. Anyways, I mean — men too
B. That’s right, try to spin out of it
A. No, seriously though, male bodybuilders I also don’t trust, but
B. It’s a dude thing
A. Yeah. At least — least— it’s part of some dumb narrative of maleness slash masculinity.
B. Aw, out loud slash. An ‘or’ would suffice
A. … Anyways
A. Anyways, … shit.
B. Forgot what you were going to say
B. You were telling me what sick fucks lady bodybuilders were and why, as a result, they are undeserving of love
A. I genuinely pity them.
B. Yeah. What I said.
A. That’s not fair.
B. Honestly, they probably don’t need your condescension. They can fight their own battles. Because they are totally jacked.
A. I’m just saying that no one will ever love them and it makes me feel sad.
B. Well, male body builders, I bet. Like with porn stars.
B. They pair off because no one else will take them.
A. Now who’s condescending
B. That’s not condescension. It’s reality dosed with contempt.
A. And that’s so much better.
B. I’m not saying it’s better, I’m just saying at least I’m not Lancelotting them.
A. Lay it out for me like I’ve never been to a ren faire
B. You’re pretending to be their champion when really you just want to fuck their wife.
A. What’s the wife in that scenario? What am I supposed to be after?
B. The appearance of being a decent human being? I don’t know. I’m pretty drunk right now.
A. I thought you stopped.
B. I did cut back, but you just happened to catch me on an off night.
A. An on night. …or cut foward, maybe.
B. Baffling. Baffling why you haven’t found anyone yet.
A. Can we please just discuss the plight of the female bodybuilder.
A. No pasts. No futures. Just one vast, everlasting female bodybuilder cradling us in her infinite, indistinguishable bosom.
B. So you think that they’re sad.
A. Yesss. Well, I feel bad for them.
A. Because I don’t think they will ever truly be loved.
B. Unlike… continue
A. Like you said, I bet they do pair off with male bodybuilders. But, like you said, there is a professional alliance aspect to it.
B. I didn’t say that.
A. You didn’t?
B. I said that they paired off because no one else wanted their freak asses.
A. Oh right. And I said that that underplayed the comparative lack of stigma against male bodybuilders– who while certainly deeply unappealing, and muscular to the point of losing functionality, still would have a comparative wealth of options compared to their narrativeless female counterparts.
B. And you did not say that. And you used comparative twice in the same sentence. Three if you count compared.
A. I did?
B. Yeah– you’re drunk too, aren’t you?
A. A little.
B. When did you start drinking?
A. When did you start shuttingup and letting me discuss lady bodybros?
B. I will take that for a ‘since we broke up’
A. Well no technical shit. I didn’t drink then but do drink now. Ok?
A. Thank you. …what was I saying?
B. Professional alliances.
A. Do you think that maybe I shouldn’t feel bad for them?
B. That is what I’ve been saying.
A. No, not. I’m not condescending I’m being a fucking human being.
B. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.
A. But because they have that professional alliance
B. If that’s the case
A. Right. If they do marry off, or just fuckbuddy cluster with their male fellow male bodybuilders
B. Or female
A. That’s right! I didn’t think about that. I bet a lot of them are dykes!
B. D– really?
A. Ohhhh no
B. Well, they do seem water resistant. I’ll assume you meant dams.
A. A real lesbian would be ok with that, though, probably.
B. Ehh. Let’s just move on under the auspices of ‘If a dyke falls in the woods…’
A. Ok, now we’re even.
B. Not really.
A. But I don’t think that they are.
A. I remember hearing that they weren’t.
B. Where? All of them?
A. Pumping Iron II, maybe?
B. No, we tried to rent that but no one had it, remember? I mean, unless you
A. No. I haven’t.
B. But still, all of them can’t be gay or straight
A. Do you think the les ones would even be into that nonsense?
B. Maybe?? They did do it to themselves after all
A. But that’s just because they got raped or touched bad when they were young.
B. … You’re saying that as if you know
A. I wasn’t raped.
B. I , I don’t even know what to do with this.
A. I wasn’t.
B. That’s. I thought we were just going to have a fun conversation about lady bodybuilders from now on. Remember?
A. We are.
B. Do you ever wish we were still together.
A. I mean,
B. Neither do I.
A. I bet they’re nuts in bed though…