My Gym Tragedy

I found out something horrible this afternoon – my beloved gym, source of two CUSS victories and countless episodes of contemplation on women’s grooming fads – is closing! Worse, it is being torn down and luxury housing is being built on the site. The horror! The horror! I hate luxury housing. Why can’t we seem to build anything else in Manhattan these days? I could deal with it if it was affordable housing, mixed income housing, or even supportive housing, but I am sick of the increasing gentrification in my neighborhood.

The gym will reopen as an even more luxurious gym in the new building. Unfortunately, this means that it will probably be full of even more stick thin, hairless, pointy-toe shoe wearing wenches. Bah! In the meantime, I don’t know where I am going to drag my fat ass to work out. I guess if the strike never ends, I could walk 14 miles to and from work five days a week and I won't have to worry. It’s all crap! Go away, evil luxury housing.

The only good news is that this is not happening until October 2006, so I have 10 more months to use the locker room and find my face square in someone’s ass or shaved cooch as I look up from tying my shoes. Not that I want my face in someone’s ass or cooch (shaved or not), but it does seem to inspire many interesting trains of thought in me. I’ve learned so much about thongs and g-strings at my gym. I will miss it so.