Invasive Question

“What is your favorite part of the day?” he asked.

I was growing tired of generating feigned answers to questions about my personal health. Each response I could think of involved intimate time with my parter, and therefore irrelevant to share with the twenty-something gym employee completing my one-month-trial intake questionnaire.

“That’s none of your business, Chandler.” I jested.

“Haha, you’re funny, man. I got you. No but really. What would you say?”

I thought about falling asleep and waking up with my person, smelling coffee in the morning, sharing laughter with people I love, sitting around a table deep in conversation, feeling clean after a long day, observing the slowly setting sun with a drink in hand.

“That’s none of your business, Chandler!”

I wish I could see what he wrote down on his paper. “Unclear?” “Unwilling to share?” “Dodged question?” How critical was it that this information be logged so that I may one day be converted to a full-time member? But I suppose that’s none of my business.