To Eric at Bally’s:
I kind of expected this last night walking into your gym, but I was hoping to be proven wrong. I had faith, and you let me down. I came in to begin my trial membership, since I can’t work out during the day for a while, and it’s going to be too cold to go outside soon anyway. You were the stereotypical personal trainer: spiked hair, bulked up, head too small for your body, those beady ephedrine eyes. I was prepared for the huge sales pitch, and sat through it patiently. Then you showed me around the gym, and even though I had proven to you that I know a lot about fitness, you seemed to ignore that. Maybe because I’m not one of those tiny women in spandex. You gave me a tour of all the machines that girls might like, and set the resistance way too low. After three or four reps, you’d yell, “YOU FEEL THAT?!?” and I’d have to hop off the machine and move to the next. We spent about 10 seconds in the weight room, long enough for you to point out the free weights and flex your arms. Funny, we spent about 5 minutes in the aerobics studio. I think the clincher for me was when you told me about how the club used to have a pool, but it was damaged by the nearby train tracks and had to be removed. You said, “That’s OK, though. Mostly only old people used it. Well, old people and really obese people. That’s about it.” Eric, you are a dumbshit. I’m not joining your club. But I will still use my free pass because I like the weight room. After that, I’m joining the Y. Thanks!Jenni