That's more like it

Had lunch with a friend at an outdoor cafe today, and saw lots of shirtless joggers with no safety shirts - that's what I like to see.  What's more, a sudden and unexpected downpour prompted other guys in the street to shed their shirts when they got drenched. 

More of my favorite lifeguard

Beach weekend

Last weekend my bf and I went on a mini-vacation to a beach town a couple of hours away.  Aside from the beach itself, there was surprisingly little shirtlessness to be seen, perhaps because it was overcast for much of the time.  On my past trips there, it has been extremely common to see guys walking around the downtown commercial area shirtless.  I've always enjoyed sitting in a bar or restaurant and watching the bare chests go by, but this time there wasn't a lot of such scenery.

The most shirtless guys I saw at one time were at a gay bar Saturday night.  My bf wasn't feeling well, so he stayed in while I went to the club by myself.  I hit it off with a particularly beautiful man and spent most of the evening hanging and dancing with him.  He was wearing a t-shirt, but with some persistence I persuaded him to take it off, albeit briefly.  Unfortunately, he said he doesn't like being shirtless, and put it back on in short order.  I told him if I had a body like his I would never wear a shirt.  It's a perplexing phenomenon when the guys who should be the most confident about their bodies are the most modest.

One other noteworthy shirtless sighting came Monday morning.  My bf and I were about to head home, and stopped at a terrific coffee shop/bakery we'd discovered.  We were sitting outside enjoying our breakfast when a trio of smooth blond youths came jogging by in gym shorts, sneakers, and no shirts.  We spotted them when they were approaching from quite a ways down the road, so we got to enjoy a lingering view of their glistening chests as they ran towards us, and then their backsides as they went by. 

I wish there were such a thing as a "shirt limit"

Getting out of a wet shirt

Last night I went out with my sometime-kinda-sorta-pseudo boyfriend (who at this point is pretty much just my boyfriend) to meet some people at a rooftop bar in the city.  It was a nice warm evening, and the place was packed with hotties.  Eight of us were crowded around a small table, and in my buzzed state I accidentally knocked over my friend's drink, soaking the front of my shirt.  My companions were encouraging me to take it off, but I didn't want to be the only one - the bartenders were shirtless (and rightly so, as buff as they were) but none of the customers were.  So I stayed in my wet shirt until my bf and I left, then removed it in the car for the ride home (bf was driving).

Now, my bf takes his shirt off every chance he gets, and tells anyone who will listen that it's a habit he learned from his dad, with whom he used to hang out bare-chested all the time.  But for some reason he seems to get uncomfortable when I do it.  He informed me we were more likely to get pulled over because I was shirtless, to which I replied "Then don't do anything to warrant getting pulled over."  When we arrived into my parking lot, he asked me to put my shirt on before walking in; when I pointed out that he habitually goes shirtless himself, he said "Well, I don't do it around your building."  I don't know what that had to do with anything, and I wouldn't complain about it even if he did, but I grudgingly complied with his request. 

Little by little

Is anything more synonymous with shirtlessness than jogging?  Not to my mind.  And though I generally prefer to do my aerobic exercise in the gym, I occasionally go for a run outside when getting there isn't feasible.

Today was one of those days - I was pressed for time, so I took a short (approximately two miles) run around some of the nearby neighborhoods.  I was shirted for most of it, but worked up the gumption to take it off and run bare-chested for a brief while on one of the more secluded residential streets.  What a difference!  I went from feeling hot, sticky and gross in my sweaty t-shirt to feeling cool and free with my torso exposed to the breeze.  It even made me pick up the pace a little! 

As I approached a more populous area, I chickened out and put my shirt back on (I'm still not fit enough to be seen by the general public), but then removed it again as I approached the side door to my building.  I kept it off as I walked down the hallway to the mail room; perhaps it's strange, but I was more comfortable risking being seen by my neighbors than by strangers on the street.  Still shirtless, I got on the elevator, passing a middle-aged woman who averted her eyes as she got off.  For the rest of the walk to my apartment, I didn't encounter anyone else. 

The view

I live in a third-floor corner apartment, where my balcony (on the north side) and my bedroom window (on the west side) directly overlook the swimming pool.  That's not quite as cool as it sounds - it's mostly children, accompanied by a few frumpy parents.  As much as I would enjoy reading a book in the sun, and maybe taking a dip in the water, I don't hang out there because I don't want to be the lone middle-aged guy hanging around a bunch of kids.

However, from the comfort of my home, I do get to enjoy the sight of the hunky young lifeguards at work, particularly at opening and closing times when they're skimming the pool and such in their bathing suits.  Oh, to have a job for which going shirtless was not only allowed, but expected and practically mandatory!

And every day, I get treated to a show of this hairy-chested hunk doing sit-ups.

Driving shirtless

It's been so brutally hot lately that being shirtless has become almost a necessity in the car.  Sure, I have air conditioning, but that takes a while to cool things down, and sitting in a metal box in 100-degree heat is intolerable.  That's not to say I have the guts to shuck my shirt every time I drive; it largely depends on the distance and the destination.  Today, for example, I drove home from the gym without a shirt. 

Given the weather, I'd expect to see a lot more bare chests behind the wheel, or just out and about, but alas, I have not.

"Before" shot

Okay, here's me and the distressing amount of poundage I've put on my midsection, due in part to having quit smoking.  That's a convenient excuse, but the whole truth is I'm a bit too fond of beer and junk food, and not at all fond of aerobic exercise (though I do hit the weights faithfully three or four times a week). 

I plan to post pics of my progress semi-regularly as I trim down; I'm hoping to lose a few pounds in time for my beach vacation in a couple of weeks.

The only one shirtless

Every Sunday night, my sometime-kinda-sorta-pseudo boyfriend (it's a long story) has a few people over to watch True Blood.  I don't really follow the show, but I'm more than happy to spend time with SKSPB and our mutual friends.  So I went over to his place early in the evening, the two of us went out for dinner, and upon returning to his place I changed into a pair of gym shorts - and nothing else.  Even after our buds arrived I didn't put a shirt on, and remained the only shirtless one among shirted company.  No one said a word, but I didn't expect them to - they're among my closest, most trusted friends.  It would have been nice if they had joined me in hanging out sans shirts, but it didn't happen.  And I even kept my shirt off for the drive home (the only reason I didn't stay the night is because I had a dental appointment early this morning).

Fill 'er up

Friday night, fierce storms knocked out power to much of my region, including my apartment building.  Saturday afternoon, there was a run on fuel at the only operational gas station nearby, and since my tank was perilously low, I had no choice but to wait in a long line of vehicles.  It was brutally hot - in the high 90s - and I noticed at least two guys without shirts filling their tanks: one was a young, cocky-looking jock type, the other an older, slim daddy with a pickup truck.  Inspired, I shed my own shirt (after I was "safely" back in my car, of course) and drove home bare-chested; I even kept my shirt off (slung over my shoulder) as I walked into my building.  A small accomplishment, but an accomplishment nonetheless.