Joining up.

2003-09-19 at 9:10 a.m.

Becca and I joined a gym.

Okay, so this isn't great news on an earth-shattering level, but it did provide some entertainment during a bleak and bleary Tuesday.

There's a gym about three blocks from the bookstore (in turn, about four blocks from the PSU campus) that several of the bookstore denizens frequent. And, I'm told, there are often good deals to be had on membership, depending on when you join. There was supposedly this $14-a-month dealie where you could only go three times a week. THIS would fit into my budget. And my schedule, because, let's all face it, I'm not going to become a gym bunny any time soon. Three times a week? sounds perfect.

So Bec came and picked me up after work and we walked over. At the front counter, the little Miss Perfect smiled innocently at us and told us she didn't know pricing and we'd have to talk to a salesman.

EEEUUuuucchhh.

Gym salesmen, I believe, are basically the unwanted step-children of insurance salesmen and used-car salesmen. And I say "men" because let's face it, they are 99% male. Which, I think, is sort of part of my level of discomfort and eye-ball-rolling at them.

But Becca and I suck it up and sit down with Kipp-with-two-p's, an uber-buff young man with an elaborately designed facial hair scheme that is sort of a mutton-chop-meets-goatee-but-kept-real-short kind of thing. It exhasted me to think of how long he spends tending that particular accessory.

So Kipp-with-two-p's sits down with us and asks us, "So why do you guys want to join a gym?"

Becca and I look at each other for a second. Then I turn to Kipp-with-two-p's and get down to business. "Look, all we want to talk about are prices, okay? We know what we want, but it's really a matter of can we afford this."

He sat there, almost shaken, and speechless for a moment. Finally Becca took pity on him.

"I want to join a gym because I don't want to be a big gibbering ball of flab, okay?"

Finally he was back in territory he understood. "So do you want to lose weight?"

Becca leaned forward. "Are you telling me I should?"

"No, I--uh--"

I gave in. Mostly, though, because this could be fun.

"I want to join a gym to lose inches."

"How many do you want to lose?"

"Enough so that I'm toned."

"So you want to join a gym to lose weight, get toned--get healthy?"

"Are you saying we don't look healthy? We think we're pretty healthy."

Poor Kipp-with-two-p's.

It got worse--for him. He must have been 21 or 22 (three years in the army right after high school, and then he's doing this--he shared his little life story with us--he's from Belmont Wisconsin, y'know) and had only been in Portland a month. And, I think, most people at this gym take the whole gym thing pretty seriously. I mean, it's a 24=hour gym that is pretty efficient and well stocked for its size and downtown location. Becca and I though? We didn't so much take it seriously.

When he came to the next question, though, it also became clear: he didn't know whether we were a couple or not. Hee.

"So," he said, looking clearly only at me. "How does your significant other feel about you joining a gym?"

It flashed through my head that we could totally play this one through, but I wasn't sure Becca would play along, so I decided to let Kipp-with-two-p's off the hook. Partway, at least.

"We've talked about it..."

"And--they aren't supportive?"

"Well, I'm sure my husband would love for me to have rock hard abs and a firm taut butt, but it really does come down to money. We can't afford much."

I think it was the word "butt" that made the poor guy start blushing.

Next, Kipp-with-two-p's wanted to give us the tour.

"You really can skip the tour, you know," I said. "We've both belonged to gyms before, it's okay. And you can see most of the gym through the window anyway."

"Yeah," Becca said. "Everything but the pool."

"Oooh, so you haven't seen the pool?" asked Kipp. "You suuuure you don't want a tour?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, let's take the tour."

You see what I mean about salesmen? I just wanted prices people! And my price needs were not going to change no matter how state of the art the body-fat-measurement area or how organized the Lifetime Fitness Universal Machine was or how many eliptical machines they had. I still had no more money to spend each month.

So we started the tour. It was a pretty short tour. As we stood in front of the cardio machines, Becca asked, "So when is the busiest time?"

"Mostly," said Kipp, "noon is when the popular people--"

"Oooohhh, the popular people!" Becca pounced. "So, not US!"

"Noooooo!" pleaded Kipp. "I meant the popular tiiiime!"

"Oh, Becca, we can't go at noon!" I insisted. "Kipp saw right through us!"

"We didn't have enough dates in high school!" Becca pointed out gleefully.

"I swear!" Kipp blushed some more. "I meant the popular time!"

Poor, poor Kipp-with-two-p's.

Finally we sat down and talked about the money. He took us through some delightful packages that involve five sessions with a personal trainer and what-all. I don't know what on earth he was thinking, because when I said the only thing keeping me from joining was money, I still meant it. As delightful as the idea of getting a free year by paying $862 up front was, I still couldn't drop that kind of dough. I wanted to see the bargain basement options and decide whether I could afford it, not be presented with these beautiful rich options that two years ago I could have afforded and might have paid and definitely would have taken for granted. I wanted the stripped down all-basics-no-frills-no-tanning-sessions-no-personal-trainer-and-please-don't-use-the-machines-too-long membership.

He finally--finally--finally--got to the cheap-o version, which is what Becca and I ended up signing up for. $24 a month gets us Monday-Wednesday-Friday-Sunday when we can go, which will probably end up being three days a week because I'm doubting we're gonna be going on Sundays. But I'll go right after work, or right before, and hopefully get back in shape. And I'm looking forward to going with Becca, because although she hates working out too, she also kind of enjoys it. Or at least has enough cynical sense of humor about it that we end up having a good time.

The only bad part? We keep seeing Kipp-with-two-p's.

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