11:31 a.m. - 2006-03-01
it's not a bar
So my parents were kind enough to get me a six month membership for a gym for Christmas, like I asked them to. But that gym is located between my current job(s) and my apartment. As of one week from today, I work in the complete opposite direction from my apartment, and after work will often be heading further from the direction of my gym, toward Kevin's house. I will rarely be driving past or near my gym anymore.
So, I have to look for another gym. I called one today, after a quick Internet search. It was called Club1 Xpress. Yes, the Club and 1 do not have a space between them, and apparently it is run by people who believe that intentional misspellings are appreciated by patrons. I do not appreciate intentional misspellings. Xpress, Spee-D-Mart, Hott Nailz, Sexxy Nails, etc. But I called because the location is fairly convenient.
"Tommy" answered the phone. I never have to meet Tommy to know what he looks like. He is short, and very muscular. He is tan. And shiny. He is losing his hair but probably grows it longish or wears a do-rag or something over it. He wears those weird knit pants with loud patterns that are baggy in the hip/thigh region and taper down at the ankle, presumably so they don't get caught on a bar bell or something during one of Tommy's six daily workouts.
I simply called to ask if they had a web site. I couldn't find one on line and well, 1. I dont' like to talk to people like Tommy and 2. If a gym doesn't have a web site, I probaby don't want to go there.
Tommy seemed annoyed that I was disappointed with his negative answer about my web site inquiry. Defensive almost. I find that muscle dudes are weird on the phone. I guess they are used to intimidating people or at least throwing them off with the whole weird pants thing, such that they are used to sort of having their way. But on the phone, we don't have those in-your-face visuals to deal with. Jessi is in charge on the phone, Tommy. Ok, let's be serious, I'm in charge in person too, but I could possibly, maybe, probably be intimidated if he whipped out his man-thigh and shook it at me. It's a very real possibility that we should consider. Nothing sends J-do running for the hills like a hairy or, for that matter, hairless but greasy, tan man thigh.
Anyway, I was kind of bored with the whole conversation once I learned there was no web site and I sighed with obvious annoyance. Then he got really defensive and started telling me all about how he's been "doing this" for 28 years. Um...ok. Great. You've been tanning and greasing your thighs and answering a phone for 28 years. Sign me up!
I never really said anything but "hmm. ok. uh-huh. oh." But he got increasingly defensive. At one point, he actually said this:
"Look, it's not a bar. We're here to get results!"
WHAT??? I didn't ask if I could have a martini upon arrival. A bar?!?! Where the heck did that come from?
So I said "Oh, well if there's no bar...thanks anyway." and I hung up! I really did. Gently. But firmly. Fortunately I didn't leave my name at any point, so I could decide to go there and actually check it out if I want. Hee hee. That was fun.
OBVIOUSLY, I have fallen into the Lame Duck category at "work." What else can I entertain myself with today...?
