There’s been a new lady at the gym this week. The first time I became aware of her was on Monday, when there was a minivan-taxi blocking all the parking spots, with a fare who was in no hurry to get out. I waited and waited, and finally revved the engine very loudly and made a passive-aggressive move to get around the cab and park far away. Hey, it was better than honking.
Inside, I changed and got on the bike with my book. The lady was on the treadmill walking at approximately a half-mile per hour, and talking back to Oprah on the TV. She talked the whole time she was walking, either to the TV or the person next to her, or to people coming in the door. It was really funny, because nobody talks there except to say hi. The TVs are almost always on closed-captioning, and we’re all either reading, listening to music, or otherwise absorbed. Once she moved to the elliptical machines, she found a friend who was willing to actually have a conversation, so then we were regaled with her life story. She talked about her old neighborhood in Chicago, how she met her husband and moved here on a day when it was 57 below zero, and how she used to live in the women’s shelter downtown and spent the day riding the bus between there and the Mall of America. Interspersed was encouragement for herself and others: come on, girl! We’re working out! Gotta work off all that good food! Keep it up!
It was pretty charming, and I loved seeing the other clients there obviously cringing at the forced interaction. That is, until she started yelling at her friend about how the point of the gym was to go meet people and talk. What’s the point of going there and just doing your thing by yourself? Since that’s what all of the rest of us were actually doing, it was kind of uncomfortable.
When I walked in yesterday, she was singing a song about how she was working off that chicken, and that soda, and those potatoes, and the beans. I hopped on a machine down the row from her and managed to slip by with just a ‘come on, girl! Let’s work it out!’ (I think having headphones helped). She spent the rest of her time there greeting people as they came in the door, while seated at the front desk waiting for her cab. She also hung over a treadmill watching TV with the volume turned up really loud. The owner arrived as I was about to leave, and they were fully engaged in an argument over the television by the time I walked out the door. Apparently she was not OK with the fact that the gym was not actually her living room, and that the TVs were supposed to be left on mute for everyone’s convenience.
She’s made the gym 75% more interesting!
Tuesday night, Matt and I went out to celebrate. We had dinner at Jasmine 26, which is seriously fantastic. Then we hung out at the Caterpillar Lounge for a while, watching Thom Pham cater to a gigantic group of what appeared to be liquor vendors. We were a little envious. Then, not wanting to be too fancy in an evening, we went to hang out at CC Club. I love that place on weeknights.
Yesterday, we realized that starting today, we have 10 days in a row with plans. So we stayed home, made homemade pizzas, and I began piling things on the guest room bed, including my underwater camera case, and my bathing suit and sarong. We’re going to Jamaica in a little over 2 weeks!!