So I’m at the gym yesterday (relax, this is not a workout run-down), minding my own business and rocking it out to “Eye of the Tiger” on my iPod when a woman comes over to the machine I’m on.

“Hey, how’s it going today?”
First, I should point out I do not know this woman. This does not mean she does not know me, as I’ve interviewed plenty of people over the years. And, as my face gets plastered up in more places, I get recognized more often.
“Uh, OK, I guess.”
“How’s the workout going?”
“Um…alright.”
“Tough workout? Feeling a little tired?”
“Yeah, a little.”
“Could I get you something to drink, to get you going again?”
“Uh, no, nothing.”
This is beyond weird at this point. If I’m being hit on, this is a train wreck. If she’s looking to pitch me a story, the outlook is also not good.
“Oh, OK then! Ever had it before?”
“What?”
“Red Bull,” she says, pointing to the corporate logo conveniently located on her chest.
“Oh yeah.”
Ah yes, I am being marketed to.

Now, I am paraphrasing here, but the lesson is still the same: Do not talk to strangers with corporate logo wear that is not ironic.
What’s also important to point out is that I have no grudge with Red Bull. The RB and I go way back. Driving 22 hours from Maine to Minnesota, sure! Got a long night ahead of you, absolutely. Mixed with a little vodka to keep the party going, why not?

But at the gym? When my guts are already on fire and my body is turning against me? I do not think the mad rush of energy and teeth-rattling mental clarity that comes with a sip of the RB would be right in the middle of a workout.

I am in most respects a simple man. I like bacon, I like an occasional beer, I like movies with speeding cars and ridiculous, unexplainable explosions. So I have a hard time reconciling the fact that I’ve just been duped by the real-life equivalent of a telemarketer.

But if you’re in the much desired 18-35-year-old consumer market, you know that advertisers are coming for you with the tenacity of Jack Bauer. It’s in your inbox, at the baseball stadium, in your favorite shows and movies (and video games). So I guess stealth marketing should be nothing new.

Turns out – thanks to a little observation – there were two women and one man, all dressed in workout clothes…with the RB logo and more than a few free energy drinks to hand out. Maybe the dead giveaway should have been the Red Bull wagon in the parking lot, complete with a gigantic can in the back.

Has this happened to you? Ever had some stealth marketing creep up on you?

Still, I can’t shake the fact that I passed up a free Red Bull. It was free!

• Also – I completely flubbed on a great show last weekend. MC Chris, of nerdcore rap and Aqua Teen Hunger Force fame, was at the Station last Friday. Fortunately, Dylan Martin, Mainetoday’s newest music blogger, has the run down. Check it out.

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