Okay so last Tuesday I decided to test this whole “Virgo man” thing for real. My pal Chloe kept whining about this super picky Virgo dude at her gym giving mixed signals. You know the type – super quiet, analyzes everything, acts distant but stares weirdly? Chloe was ready to quit, told me it’s impossible. Challenge accepted, I thought. Why not mess around and take notes?
Step one was researching like crazy:
- Googled old astrology forums – total garbage mostly.
- Read Reddit stories – some felt kinda real-ish.
- Stalked Virgo memes on Instagram – surprisingly relatable.
Noticed a pattern: everyone said Virgos want intelligence plus space. Fine. Next Thursday I showed up at Chloe’s gym “by accident.” Saw Mr. Virgo near the free weights. Didn’t even glance his way.
Day three: I sat near him stretching. He adjusted his headphones twice. Progress? Maybe. Just kept reading my dumb novel. Zero eye contact.
Week two experiment:
- Monday: Asked for spotting help – short, polite, thanked him, left.
- Wednesday: Casually mentioned a physics podcast near the water cooler (he was refilling his bottle). Walked away mid-sentence.
- Friday: Accidentally dropped my notebook. Pages scattered. He rushed to help organize them. Noticed his fingers lingering on my weird plant diagrams.
He started lingering near my usual treadmill time. Still didn’t initiate crap. Classic Virgo! Pissed me off. So last Tuesday I tried a pivot. Dressed super comfy – huge hoodie, messy bun. Grabbed coffee near the gym entrance, totally zoning out. He walked past. Did a double take. Stopped.
“You look different today,” he blurted out. Then looked shocked he spoke.
“Yeah, zero-effort Wednesday,” I shrugged. “Coffee keeps me human.”
He actually laughed. Laughed! Then launched into rant about his chaotic work project. Listened, nodded, sipped coffee. When he paused for breath, I checked my phone. “Ah crap, late for yoga. See ya!” Bailed fast.
Final twist:
- Next day: He waited by my car after gym. Asked if I wanted decent coffee elsewhere.
- Admitted he noticed my “methodical workout routine” weeks ago (lmao).
- Asked why I stopped wearing my “science rocks” T-shirt.
Damn. This man remembered shirt slogans? That’s when Chloe texted me shaking. He’d asked for her “accident-prone gym friend’s” number. My notes ended abruptly that day.
Two takeaways? Act competent but ditch desperation. And seriously – disappear mid-convo once. It fries their overthinking brains. Yesterday? Mr. Virgo brought me a plant encyclopedia. “For your diagrams,” he mumbled. So yeah. This shit actually worked. Wild.
