My office continues to offer crazy benefits, the latest being a truly spectacular boost in our fitness options. My last gym membership lapsed after last year's unpleasantness and my apartment's gym was designed by a bunch of guys from Spart, so yesterday I hied me over to the spendiest of the downtown gyms and flung myself at the sales manager to plead for a tour.
So let's see, what've we got here? Right, multiple racks of treadmills, yes yes, very nice. Lots of bikes with TVs and programmable rides, those are good too. Yoga and spinning studios with HD sets that allow you to punch up your choice of classes when a live teacher is not available, ooh, plush. A sign-up board to manage crowding on the cardio machines, yeah, I'll be coming back to see how well that works at peak times. Hey, there's one of those current-generating pools so that you can pretend you're a salmon heading toward a hot date in the Eagle River, neat. Steam and sauna rooms, bless. Aaand, the piece de resistance, a tanning booth.
Wait, a tanning booth? A tanning booth. You are seriously...no, come on, stop screwing with me. You've got a redacted TANNING BOOTH? A tanning booth, IN your house of healthy goodness, where trans fats are barred from the cafe and subcutaneous fat from the members. All I can say is, if that thing doesn't dispense malt liquor and unfiltered off-market Russian cigarettes, I am going to be very disappointed.
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2 comments:
>>>A sign-up board to manage crowding on the cardio machines
Yeah. That's totally gonna work. People are mindless herd animals. That's where the malt liquor and russian cigarettes should come in.
Perhaps more to the point, where shouldn't the smokes and booze come in?
The booth looks like a giant bug-zapper. Bump against the lights and bzztcrackle, you're out of the gene pool for good.
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