I joined a new gym. I upgraded from Ballys Total Fitness, or as I call it, the Oz gym and now belong to a fancy pants gym. The first thing I noticed was the big shift in members, kind of like when I went from a Detroit public school to Montclair, New Jersey.
I did this because I figured I have the money so why not? I live on the Upper Westside and am a little tired of hauling myself down to Chelsea to a gym that, while it has what I need, is not run well and often can't even get their doors open on time. When I walked in there I felt like Randall in Clerks when he goes to the super huge video store (just to rent a bunch of hermaphrodite movies)and drops to his knees in awe of the selection.
That said, it was weird being in this nice gym today with all these beautiful people. Part of it is that, as usual, I don't think I'm worthy of something nice (you don't even want to know the internal debates I have about buying new socks). Another part is my general rebellion in life against the haves. Of course, I'm a have too, but I hate acknowledging it. To borrow from Bruce, "it's a sad funny ending when you find yourself pretending, a rich man in a poor man's shirt." I'm not a rich man, but I'm not poor either. I can go to a gym that actually has towels and whose locker room floor doesn't belong at the CDC for analysis.
Still, already I miss the rag-tag faithful at Ballys. I'm keeping that membership. It's too cheap to let go and a year from now I might decide to trade down. A gym is a gym and unless I'm going to be taking all those classes or using the steam room every time or stealing the towels, what am I paying for besides the opportunity to leer at girls who I can just as easily leer at on the street?
Oh yeah, they wear a lot less clothes in the gym than they do on the street.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Guess what? You can love a rich man as easily as a poor man.
Someone told me that once (along with the other chestnuts: You have the curse of beauty and You can find 50 men within a 5 mile radius to love you)
Dude. Act as if! You are a beautiful person, be with the beautiful people.
Nothing wrong with it. Surround yourself with beauty and goodness.
Assimilate!
Prove to it to yourself. You are worthy! You are worthy!
Buy new socks! Buy CASHMERE socks.
<3 Life isn't all about suffering.
I say let those old socks get all pilly and full of holes and still you keep 'em around. Let 'em live. I can't figure people who throw out ALL OF their underwear or socks and start fresh. Okay sometimes it must be DONE. Still, one would think there's a tearing. Same with the gym. Some things you let go of and other's you let go off but keep coming back to. Kind of obvious but no sin in that. I loved Wallabees forever. So Do it all before you get old...but be sensible. Moderation, son!
One of my favorite human beings of all time a very wealthy man who had a love of growing onions. He did that every year until he couldn't hoe his rows anymore. He lived comfortably but modestly and treasured people and knowledge...and Tartan plaid Lands End Nightshirts, his morning bath and to be read to. I understood that as a wall street banker he only wore Bobby Brooks dress shirts but that was before we got him and broke him of this insanity. ILYMS. To each his own!
Get a Pedicure. You'll be so happy you did. And so will your socks! ;)
Post a Comment