After much gym deliberation I’ve decided to rejoin Women’s Workout World. Last week I stopped in to take a look around. It looks even worse from the outside now. Any drinking establishment with a sign as crappy and beat-up as the sign on the roof of Women’s Workout World would likely be the kind of place where you could rest your head on the bar and find a good toothless man to hassle you, and really, that’s all I’ve ever expected from my gym. And if the ghetto sign keeps the trixies away that’s fine with me.
But things have gotten a little better inside. The whole place is still decorated in the vernacular of Late Century Aerobic Empire, with purple and teal and neon tubing, but I think I can stand that, especially now that they’ve gotten more equipment. Thighmaster Mary is still there, her quads as mighty as ever. I’ll tell you how it goes.