Bill Murray - "Physical"
1982
The YMCA is not my social club. The goal of going there is simple: Get an elliptical workout for thirty minutes with my iPhone blasting some metal; walk on the treadmill for forty minutes while listening to more music; stretch; and then get the hell out of there.
The YMCA is not my social club. I’ve been going there for over twenty years, but have not made friends. The people who work the front desk never fail to be quite friendly. I will give them a smile and a nod, small talk if need be. I'll also sneak a glance at the gal behind the counter that I have a small crush on. But once I get through the turnstile, it’s time to get a workout done so that I can get the hell out of there and back home.
The YMCA is not my social club. I don’t talk with the other members, I don’t bond over exercise. I don’t want to bond over anybody while wearing polyester pants and a ratty teeshirt, while sweaty and out of breath. I may tell another member that the machine is all theirs after cleaning it after my workout, but in most cases a gesture will do.
The YMCA is not my social club. I don’t use the locker room. I walk home and shower there. I can do without the naked men walking around, the naked men applying various lotions and powders to their bodies, the naked men with their wet towels hogging all the stools as if they are setting up an office in the locker room - when the goal of being in the locker room should be to get the hell out as soon as possible. I can do without the seventy-year old man with his compliments, his standing there naked putting his hand on my arm while talking to me like old guys do. I do not want to have lunch with old naked man, despite his friendly invitation. Like I told him, I like to grab lunch alone and read the sports page.
The YMCA is not my social club. I’m just there to listen to metal on my iPhone while working out, looking out the large windows while all the cars try to find parking spots those weeks when lots of folks join between New Year’s Day and Valentine's Day. I’m sure many of these new people end up making friends with other members, the front desk staff, the personal trainers, the janitors. Some of them may even end up having lunch with a naked person that talks to them in the locker room. I just want to make an effort to get healthy, get the hell home, rehydrate, and mark off another appearance that goes towards my health insurance discount.
The YMCA is not my social club. I just go there four times a week.