by B. P. Kasik
“No…”
“Or exercise?”
“No…”
“The problem isn’t that you just put on a few pounds in the past few weeks. You have an unhealthy vibe and it comes through in your looks and the way you move. You seem like a heart attack waiting to happen.”
Jerry was stunned. “You didn’t have to...well…”
“I’m sorry, but I’m being honest here.”
Jerry laughed. “This really isn’t taking a magical turn and pivoting back to being a date, is it?”
She laughed back. “No, it’s not. You didn’t honestly expect that, did you?”
“No, it’s just...I felt like I was being nice, and…”
“Don’t go Gamergate on me. Yes, you’re a nice guy. You didn’t send me unsolicited dick pics. You didn’t get sleazy or stalker-y on me in our first interactions. You were polite. Keep that up! But be aware that none of that entitles you to anything from anyone. It just means you’re not an actively bad presence in the world.”
“I’m...do you really think I’m unattractive?”
“Not exactly. You’re a 5, maybe a 6. But you presented yourself as an 8.”
“Oh.”
“And you’re gonna need to learn that there’s an instantly-accessible unlimited human menu out there, so people can afford to be choosy about who they decide to pursue.”
“Gotcha.”
“But if you want to attract people and build a relationship—on Tinder or anywhere online—you’re gonna have to honestly portray yourself.”
Jerry nodded.
“Plus I’m guessing you’re unemployed right now due to your disability?”
“Yeah.”
“Unemployed, flabby, aged, divorced, with kids...maybe take some time to address at least some of that before you jump back in the dating pool.”
Jerry nodded. He felt like he was being abused, but she wasn’t saying any of it in a mean way. And she wasn’t wrong.
The waiter came by to clear their plates and asked if they wanted to see the dessert menu.
Jerry instinctively leaped at the opportunity, then caught himself and said, “No, thank you. Just the check.”
She smiled. “Good start, there!”
Jerry smiled back.
But if she hadn’t been there, he totally would have ordered dessert.
Chapter 5
Jerry joined the Gym the next day.
And canceled his Tinder account.
He didn’t want to put an honest photo of himself online. At least not until he felt okay about what he was honestly presenting.
He was dressed in workout clothes, filling out the paperwork at the Gym’s ornate front counter, and watching clientele come and go. He recognized some of the faces from the neighborhood, but he knew none of their names.
He saw a particularly buff guy in a skin-tight black shirt with “THE GYM” in thick orange letters. The guy noticed Jerry staring and approached him.
“You here for a job?” he asked, pointing at the paperwork.
Jerry shook his head. “Just doing the free trial.”
The muscular hulk stared him down. “Are you trying to take my job?”
Jerry shook his head, more vigorously this time. “I’m just trying to get in shape.”
The giant smiled and laughed. “I’m just joking with you, man. You need to bulk up a whole lot before you can take my job! And I can help make that happen!” He handed Jerry a card with his name and number and “THE GYM—PERSONALIZED TRAINING” on it. “You give me a call and make an appointment when you’re ready to get serious!”
“Uh...thanks,” said Jerry, pocketing the card.
“You’re Jerry, right?”
“Uh...yeah.” How did he know that?
“Saw it on your paperwork there,” he said, answering the unspoken question. The personal trainer slapped Jerry on the back. “Welcome to the Gym, Jerry! You’re gonna like it here. And we’re gonna get you fit. Here at the Gym, it’s all for your health!”
He smiled and walked away up the oversized glass stairs, taking them two at a time with his impossibly large legs.
Steroids, man…
Jerry handed his finished paperwork to the lovely lady behind the counter, also clad in a black t-shirt with “THE GYM” in orange.
“Thank you for signing up, and please make sure to check our blog for important announcements,” she said, rather robotically.
Jerry nodded. “Sure. Of course I will!”
She smiled politely and handed him a temporary membership card. “We hope you enjoy your free trial here. Please let us know if we can do anything to help!”
Jerry nodded, muttered thanks, and walked over to the now-fully-functional elevator.
He walked on the curved bridge over the circular moat-pool, where people were drifting on rafts or swimming leisurely. It had a natural flow, pushing people in circles.
Jerry walked through the jungle of workout equipment, having no clue where to start.
Within a week, Jerry had a pretty good routine down. He was balancing leg rehabilitation with arm exercises to sculpt himself into a more appealing package. He didn’t just want a confidence boost, he needed it. He was ready to go back on the market, but if it took months to make him valuable to the market, he’d take that time.
He showered at home after his workouts the first couple times, but then got comfortable enough to bring a bag with a change of clothes over and use the locker room.
There was something very satisfying about taking a shower on someone else’s dime. Even if it was just 37 cents’ worth of resources, it was nice to use someone else’s soap, someone else’s shampoo, someone else’s towel, someone else’s water heater, and someone else’s H20. He always took longer showers at the Gym and found them tremendously relaxing, just letting the water massage his back. The water pressure was twice as intense at the Gym as at his home, which had rusty old pipes from the 70s.
There was an exuberantly gay guy who spent an awful lot of time in the locker room. At first, this made Jerry uneasy, especially when changing his clothes. He felt like there was a peeping tom in the room with him. And he got a bit offended. Then he realized this feeling of being objectified was how women feel all the time. The male gaze is a constant monster.
Jerry eventually grew to envy the gay guy. He was living the dream! That guy’s experience of being in the locker room surrounded by people he’s attracted to was like Jerry’s middle-school dream of hanging out, invisible, in the girls’ locker room. After a time, he was more jealous of the gay guy than anything. That lucky fella cracked the code for legitimate locker room peeping!
He was riding on the exercise bike with the back-supporting chair, reading a Robert Benchley book and increasing the resistance level from 8 to 9. He was ready for a new challenge. He wanted to keep pushing himself.
He hated that despite his increasing abilities with the exercise bike and stairs, he still couldn’t work. There was something deeply emasculating about not working, not being an active provider.
He paid the ex what he could to support the kids, but he was sad that he wasn’t quite strong enough to handle the two kiddos on his own during his weekend custody time. His ex had been taking them to her folks’ house to give herself a break during the time he’d normally care for them.
He hadn’t told her about joining a gym. It wasn’t really her business. And he wasn’t paying for it yet.
It got him thinking, though. About all the small details of his life; having no one to share them. He loved the Gym and he had no one to tell.
He loved every detail of the place. The decadent wall decorations, the perpetually-shiny exercise equipment, the country club-esque locker rooms with oak lockers, the ever-breathtaking infinity pool, and even the giant glass steps. He couldn’t ascend them yet, but he loved seeing them whenever he entered the Gym. It made it feel like he was entering some kind of fairy tale palace. And it was a palace where he was welcome!
; He’d approached the place with skepticism and a mild unease, but he had to admit—it was fantastic. It probably helped that he was exercising regularly for the first time in years, good chemicals now flowing in his brain.
He wrapped up his 30-minute workout on the exercise bike and walked over to the moist paper towel dispenser so he could wipe his sweat off the equipment. He stretched after cleaning and noticed someone had come up alongside him.
“Hey, stranger. We meet again, after all!”
It was Ben, the guy he’d met during the open house. Jerry laughed. “Yep, looks like I failed to stay away from this place.”
“It’s great, right?”
“I love it, man. I’ve never felt better.”
“Exercise changes everything!”
“Better and cheaper than therapy.”
“And antidepressants!” Ben smiled as they started walking laps around the exercise area. “So how’s your leg feeling? And are you still weirded out by the place?”
“My leg’s doing a little better each day. And not at all! The decor is strange, and I’m still not entirely used to the locker room.”
“Yeah, guys running around naked...it takes some getting used to.”
“That would be true at any gym. How about the guy in there who…uh…”
Ben looked back and forth to see if anyone was listening before responding, “The gay guy who spends all day in the locker room checking us out?”
“Yes!”
“I take it as flattery. If he wants to check me out, more power to him.”
Jerry laughed. “My goal is to slim down enough to get him to check me out. I’ll know I’ve reached my fitness goals if I feel emotionally violated.”
“It’s good to have goals. And you see that one really overweight guy who sits on the bench in there?”
“For 20-30 minutes at a time, yes! He doesn’t read or look at his phone, he just sits there! It’s so weird!”
Ben nodded. “Weirder than golden gym walls?”
“It’s a tie. Hey, uh…” Jerry looked around to see if anyone was listening. “You had any weird encounters with the personal trainer here?”
Ben shook his head. “The guy tried to persuade me into taking some classes with him, or doing some personal training sessions. But that’s just salesmanship.”
“Okay. Maybe he’s just being weird with me.”
“How so?”
“He acted like I was trying to steal his job.”
“That is odd.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna hit the shower.”
“Cool, see you around. Glad we can be gym buddies!”
Jerry walked away and noticed that he and Ben were in the minority. Waiting for the elevator, he counted only four normal-looking men and women in there. The rest—dozens of people—were strikingly muscular males and perfectly-sculpted females.
Eye candy, eye candy, everywhere.
As he got in the elevator and went to the ground floor, Jerry wondered how long these people had to work to get so amazing-looking.
Maybe I should do some personal training sessions, after all.
And the elevator door opened to reveal the gym’s personal trainer blocking the way. “Hiya, Jerry. How’s the workout going? You pushing yourself?”
Jerry tried to smile. “Yep. No pain, gain!”
“Happy to hear that! Pain is the best! Pain is weakness leaving the body! It makes you stronger, long as it doesn’t kill you!”
Jerry nodded. “Mind if I get off the elevator?”
The personal trainer stepped to the side. “Absolutely! Go right ahead! You’re thinking about some training sessions, right? You ready to step it up?”
Jerry faked another smile. How did he know? “Sounds pretty great. But no, maybe some other time.”
The personal trainer laughed. “Let me know if you ever get serious! I can make a man out of you!”
Jerry nodded and walked into the locker room.
There was a square island in the middle of the locker room with mirrors and sinks on three sides and showers on the fourth side.
It rubbed Jerry the wrong way. If those were one-way mirrors, there would be a perfect, unobstructed view of everyone in the locker room. But there was no door or way to enter the island—it was a solid block—so he knew it was irrational.
After showering, he limped back to his assigned locker and spun the row of numbers above the handle to match the code he’d set. It didn’t work.
He tried again. Nothing. And again. The locker remained locked.
He looked around to see if there was anyone in the locker room who could help. Empty.
He then looked down at himself and saw that he had nothing but a towel on. He sighed. Walking without shoes was rough. Going from the shower to the locker and back bare-footed was bad enough.
But he had to get help.
So he slowly limped on the cold tile out of the locker room and into the main lobby. A few people gave him second glances, but most politely ignored him.
He approached the service desk and waited for the lone employee there to finish her phone call.
It took two minutes.
He was leaning hard against the desk to ease the weight on his left foot.
When the employee hung up, he said, “How may I help you?”
“My locker combination isn’t working.”
“Did you forget your combination?”
“No, I remembered the numbers. It just isn’t opening.”
“Did you put all four numbers in exactly as you set them?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Have you tried numbers close to your number?”
“No, I know what numbers I used.”
“Are you sure you didn’t use a different locker?”
“No, I know what locker I was assigned.”
“And what was the combination?”
It was 4-3-2-1, but he wasn’t about to admit that. So he said, “It doesn’t matter. Can you please open the locker for me?”
The employee stared at him. “Can you prove that it’s your locker?”
Jerry stared right back. “How would I do that?”
“Any form of ID would be acceptable.”
“I’m standing here naked with a towel. I don’t have my wallet on me.”
“I understand, sir. But how can I open up a locker without proof that it belongs to you?”
“I can prove it once you open it! My ID is in there.”
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s policy. I can’t open a locker without some proof that it belongs to you first.”
“How am I supposed to prove that it’s my locker when the proof is in my locker?”
“I wish there was something I could do to help you.”
“What am I supposed to do, walk barefoot in a towel back to my house and find some alternate form of ID?”
“I’m afraid we can’t allow you to take our towel off-premises. It’s Gym property.”
Jerry looked around for hidden cameras. “Is this some elaborate prank?”
“Sir, it’s not my fault that you left your personal effects in your locker and then forgot the combination like a complete idiot.”
“I—excuse me?”
“We have rules here. And these rules are here to protect our clients. Even big crybabies like you.”
Jerry’s jaw hung open. “The hell?”
“Sir, I do not appreciate your profanity. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Jerry opened his mouth to scream when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “What seems to be the problem?”
It was the Gym rep he’d met on opening day.
“Are you in charge here?” asked Jerry.
The rep smiled and nodded. “Absolutely! My name is Deane. What can I do to help you?”
“This…” Jerry pointed at the desk worker, “PSYCHOPATH just made fun of me for not being able to get into my locker. Called me an ‘idiot.’”
Deane turned to the desk worker. “Is
this true?”
“Sir, he wanted me to open this locker for him without any proof it was his!”
“Oh, it’s fine. We can help him out!”
The desk worker’s lip quivered. “But sir...the rules.”
“Yes, yes,” said the rep. “Let’s be flexible here. We’re not here for the rules, the rules are here for us! And when they’re not helpful, sometimes we have to bend them.”
The desk worker bit her quivering lip. “Am I in trouble, sir?”
“Absolutely not! Just hand me the master key and I’ll help our good client out here.”
Jerry was dumbfounded as he was led back into the locker room and the rep opened his locker for him with a smile.
“Do you need me to get out my wallet and show you my ID to prove that it’s mine?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. But it would be helpful. For your protection.”
Jerry stared at him. “I was joking.”
“Good sir, how would you feel if we allowed any stranger to come into the locker room and have us open up any locker for them without any verification? What if some criminal pretended to be you—pretended to be locked out of YOUR locker—and asked us to grant him access without any proof that he was, in fact, you?”
That actually made sense. But still…
“Your desk worker out front—”
“Will be properly disciplined, rest assured! I apologize for any rudeness. Some of our employees get a bit carried away sometimes.”
“Uh...okay. Fine.” And Jerry got out his wallet and showed the rep his ID.
“Thank you so much, sir! I’m sorry you were inconvenienced today and I hope your future visits to the Gym are more pleasant. It’s all for your health here!”
And he walked out.
Jerry dressed and limped out of the locker room.
He noticed that the desk worker who insulted him was gone.
Chapter 6
After lunch on Saturday, Jerry started counting down the minutes until 5 p.m.
He was in charge of the kids on his own until then. And he wasn’t sure he’d make it. By noon, he was exhausted and barely managing his leg pain.
His ex-wife’s parents were out of town and thus couldn’t help with the kids that weekend. And Becky needed a break. So he went ahead and offered to take the kids around town to give her a day off even though he wasn’t quite up to it.