"Welp, doesn't look like the bag really wanted to work with you," he commented. "Why don't you sit down and take a break? I think the rest of the equipment is sort of intimidated right now." He could almost visualize the treadmill cowering in fear. Clearly, Xander needed to get out more if he was imagining workout supplies in a manner that suggested that they felt and thought things. Jeez, where was Anya when he needed her to talk him down from his crazy thinking? Or, better yet, where was she so that she could embrace his crazy thinking with her crazy thinking? They'd probably end up naming the machines if that were the case. The bag didn't get a name. He wouldn't name anything that was dead.
Xander folded his arms over his chest and looked back to the door. No annoying people to run in and invade on their conversation? Good. It was what he needed. "So, bag mauling aside, how are things? Better yet, how are you?"