How to meet Edris - "The warehouse gym"

I would be really hyped to type this out if I was still into the gym scene. But here it goes anyways:

I've been dedicating an hour or more of my day to my yoga practice every morning in JLT. Yesterday, I grabbed some coconut water after practice and strolled over to check out some paint supplies in a warehouse/industrial part of town (Al Quoz). That's when I met Edris.

Edris saw me eyeing out the new shiny black exterior of a warehouse with the words "The warehouse gym". Intrigued and curious, I did what you are not supposed to do as a single woman in an industrial area .... stroll in with wide eyes. I knew my bf would be like "wtf", but I was already in too deep when I was instagramming the interior graffiti art. Sorry boo.

Back to Edris; He is the owner of the warehouse gym on Umm Sequim road and he gave me a full tour of the still raw facilities. The concept is to have the industrial feel, the raw energy, the salty sweat, in a couture environment. Let me make that clearer - Everything is designer. The tiles, the equipment, the mirrors, the showers, the art, the concepts. Everything.

The layout is excellent - 2 huge studio spaces overlooking a massive floor of gym. The floor contains a space for cardio, olympic weight training, standard weight machines, a full crossfit fit out, free training space and an MMA style cage. What more do you need right?

Actually, wait, I don't need any of that. I have a mat, running shoes and the will power of 3 nuns. I can't believe I used to be into lifting and high intensity training. BUT if that's your thing - check out this space. Edris has passion and I have his number if you want it.

They open in May-ish.

How to be a wuss.

I didn't have the keys to the apartment, and I needed to use the washroom. Typical.

I decided to shorten my wait and just use the washroom by the gym on the first floor. It was usually open and since there wouldn't be any people using it at this time, it would be convenient. I swung my car door open and headed to the elevators.

I saw him look at me as I walked by, and just as the elevator door closed, I caught a glimpse of his stare again. He was the building's security guard, a new guy, I don't know him very well. He was an old Indian/Pakistani/Bengali guy, probably in his mid 50s with bad posture. I hoped it was just a watchful stare, but I had bigger worries - like getting to the damn washroom. Quick.

From a blurry memory of a summer day there, I kind of remembered the way to go. I heard the elevator doors close behind me and the hallway was dark. I ran to the washroom and suddenly heard footsteps as I was about to finish up. Shit. I prayed it wasn't him.

He was standing at the entrance to the washroom, blocking my way out as I washed my hands. Fuck!

"Madam, who are you here for?"
my friend lives here, sorry, just needed to use the washroom and I didnt want to wait.

"I've seen you here before..."
Yes, my friend lives here.

"Are you African?"
No

"But your friend is African?"
.....I'm Indian.

I suddenly see him coming toward me. My heart had already left the building. I'm shaking. "I have to go" and I tried to dodge him. He grabbed my waist. I pushed him. He grabbed my hand and I pushed him harder.

"I'm Indian too" he said. "Are you sure your friend is just a friend?....not just a friend correct?"

"Leave me alone" I pushed him again and tried to get past him. It wasnt a physical struggle, but I was scared in retrospect. I didn't want to touch him. Not even slap him. I just wanted to leave. I start heading back to the elevators. He starts pleading. He grabbed my hair and I started to get louder, push harder, walk faster.

"Hey, I'll pay you, I have money" he yelled at me.

At this point I was visibly shaking and he was backing off. I figured he could hear the people in the elevator and that he would back off. He did.

I got into an elevator filled with about 6 people who seemed like they were leaving a party. I got out one floor below and ran back in disbelief..

I am safe. Nothing happened. But my mind won't stop replaying the fear. I just feel weak and stupid.


Note: This happened to me yesterday. What was I wearing? Who was I waiting for? Where was I? What time was it?. These are questions I do not feel like answering, because it should not matter. The incident went unreported (Can you guess why?).