Everyone at my gym is married. Everyone is so nice, nicest people I've ever worked out with. People bring their dogs and kids. It's like a big family picnic with weights. The most common talk at my gym is when someone is lying on the floor trying to finish a set of burpees or push-ups. A small crowd forms. Some will even lie down with the person. Everyone pushes the person to do one more rep. Completing the set then nets an ovation. Someone turns up with a cup of water. It's a really supportive environment.
But just about everyone over the age of 25 is married to someone else working out there.
I'm not big on chitchat while I'm working. I'm big on form, beating my times, beating my last achievement. I'm frequently the person lying there, trying to get in those last reps before the clock hits zero. I talk to the folks there before training. After, I'm looking to get in my protein and water, and head home to bathe. When I'm done, I'm filthy. If I want to talk, I'm in the lounge or playing with someone's dog or baby.
When I went to a more conventional gym, I only spoke to people if I thought what they were doing was dangerously poor form, or if I wanted them to help me with a machine, or with my form. In the cardio areas, I looked for the women I wanted to look like, and parked myself behind them. If I got slow or tired, I'd look at their bodies for inspiration and keep pushing. I never told any of them about it, and tried not to let anyone see me staring. I wouldn't have wanted to make anyone uncomfortable.
I went to one gym early on where people were extra friendly. They learned pretty quickly I can't maintain a conversation and workout at the same time. There was one guy I'd make a point to chat up before I left because it seed to hurt his feelings that I wouldn't talk to him in the weight room. But I can't talk and count. There was one other guy that used to bug me while I was doing my post-warm-up stretching. I always did my warm up on cardio machines, then stretched next to cardio machines, then got on a cardio machine. I liked to start with cardio. He started out asking me if I was okay. At first I figured I must look doubled over breathless while I stretched my calves. After getting used to seeing my routine for a few weeks, he began asking me about it, and why I did things the way I did them. He was hugely overweight, and confessed to being new to exercise. It turned out he had no idea how important stretching was (nor how many calories it eats up). He asked me to stretch with him sometime. So I got a partner for stretching for a while.
A security guard used to chat me up when I worked out alone late at night on base. I think he just didn't want me to be by myself in that creepy old building. I certainly appreciated that he would time one of his patrols so he could walk me to my car. The base was small, old, and spooky at 2AM.
When I got into endurance training, I had a partner. He was faster, and ran longer, but if we went to the gym (neither of us being fans of being outside in rain or snow, or bad smog conditions) we walked the four miles there as a warmup, then hit the treadmills side by side. I'd switch to weightlifting while he was still putting in miles, and then I'd spot for him after my cooldown. Then we'd walk back to his house for recovery snacks. I think a few times we came close to having sex; working out makes both of us very horny. Unfortunately, neither of us realized the other was willing, so we never did hook up. He was actually really upset with me years later when I made a joke about the sexual tension. I still think it's really funny that I'd go home (2 blocks away) and we'd both masturbate. I think it is for the best. He's like kin. We've been friends since high school. That's probably the closest I've ever come to a gym-related hookup.