Three Strikes and You’re Out

There’s a reason they call it a workout and not a cookout.
There’s a reason why the word “work” is in the first word and “cook” is in the second.
Do not confuse the two.
The workout is the one where you don’t bring food and hang around and gab and drink brightly colored drinks and iced coffee. The cookout is the one where you do.
The workout is the one where you don’t wear cargo pants and a flimsy tank top sans bra and flipflops and carry your stuff in a straw totebag. The cookout is the one where you do.
The workout is the one where you don’t spray on citrusy cologne or some other sweet stuff from Bath & Body (or whatever the hell that place is called) and flirt prettily. The cookout is the one where you do.
Got it?
Just so we have it straight.