I stood at the counter, one knee bent, my left toe tapping impatiently on the heel of my right shoe. I’d been waiting just a bit too long and I was feeling sort of irritated. But the angry little man in the dark suit had me trumped. He was yelling, saliva foaming at the corners of his mouth, channeling his inner Napoleon.
“This is the worst god-damned organization ever!”
I couldn’t help but stare at him. A fully grown man in a three-button suit throwing a full-blown temper tantrum at the gym. Beet-red in the face, he screamed a few more obscenities and then, in a bizarre and dumbfounding climax, balled up his towel and threw it in the face of a large, milk-did-his-body-good personal trainer.
My eyes widened as the trainer took a step forward. But just as things were getting good (‘Sir, I’m going to have to ask you…’), my wait was over (‘here’s your card, miss’) and I turned to leave.
Two days ago, my gym changed towel services. In a city where massively important things happen with great regularity, you’d think that a simple switch in linen policy would go by without too much to-do.
You’d think. But you’d be wrong. Because all hell broke loose.
Old policy: Swipe your card, receive two medium size (and relatively useless as far as showering goes) towels and toss towels in basket on your way out.
New policy: Hand over your card, receive one small towel (for the machines) and one large bath-size towel (which handily enough, wraps all the way around the body, heavily reducing the chances you will see too much uninvited locker room nakedness), return the towels, get your card back and go on your showered merry way.
Let’s just say that on day one of the new policy, mistakes were made. ID cards were lost. Lines formed. Saliva bubbled.
Women in the locker room were plotting emails to CEOs, passing out fliers with 1-800 numbers. Men screamed and demanded things like refunds and managers. Me? I waited in line for my lost ID card and hoped they’d get the kinks worked out soon. It was a good-on-paper policy, and I had faith the Less Nakedness towels would prevail. While I may be a typically slow-to-anger kind of girl, I am the bitchy sort and would normally grab the opportunity to whine about The Man or The Bad Policy. But about towels?
I don’t know about the rest of those folks, but I have to save my energy for those crazy elliptical machines. I refuse to break a sweat even before I get to the locker room.
Hilarious. Grown people throwing temper tantrums--always a good show.
Posted by: syd at May 5, 2005 03:35 PMI got that beat...at my old gym, they mounted electric handdryers 7 ft up on the wall. The towels there would be saturated just by drying your hair. Try to dry you unmentionables with an electric hand-dryer. You have to be Olga Korbut just to get your ass dry!
Posted by: Mike at May 5, 2005 03:40 PMSounds like you had an entertaining time at the gym. The most excitement I ever see is when the instructor falls over in Pilates class. Good times.
Posted by: Carrie at May 5, 2005 03:46 PMAh, adults throwing temper tantrums and yelling at people who really have nothing to do with the problem. I don't miss retail one bit. I did love your story though... :)
Posted by: sunshine(kvb) at May 5, 2005 03:50 PMfish, you always make me sweat, girl. i might need me one of them there towels. ;)
Posted by: RazDreams at May 5, 2005 11:41 PMI cancelled my membership at my university job's fancy new req center because (among other reasons) they would take your card and give you just a thin little excuse for a towel about half the size of a standard size bath towel, with the heft and absorption power as a kleenex.
More and more I'm starting to appreciate my downtown gym. It's expensive, but the stacks and stacks of clean white towels in the locker rooms and in strategic locations of every workout area seem to be an anomaly in the gym world. I can use as many towels as I want... and I do!
Great blog!
Posted by: Ann at May 6, 2005 01:38 AMMy gym makes me pay £1 for a towell.... which is annoying enough to make me want to shout at them, but I just take it out on the bikes! (who wants to have to drag a towell around in their gym bag???
I always thought you were for the nakedness? Although I do seem to remember a particular popular sitcom episode which featured "bad naked" in all of it's glory. If somehow we could fill one gym with good naked, they should get the small towels.. And the bad naked gym would get not the large towels, but those things that BBB calls "bath sheets" Of course this determination would be subjective, so Fish should get dictatorial power in these regards. Thoughts?
Posted by: peter at May 6, 2005 11:49 AMFirst of all, let me say, nice blog. Really, really nice.
Next, I wanted to share a bit about my good friend, H. who was running the spa in the Tower of the Worst Man-Hair, Ever. The clientele were very famously nice, and nicely famous. The 24 prima donnas on staff were hellishly solipsistic and mean. This led her to a daily dysphagia that had nothing to do with an eating disorder. They just were that bad. And don't think that this beautiful Minnesota-bred girl of steel had any ego defficiency--she amazes all, even Captains-of-Industry-With-Bad-Hair and chefs with hyphenated names. She had to turn in her towel-keys, much to the dismay of the guy who said "You're not fi-yuhd", and tried to keep her. But gastric health is important, they say, and she now spends calm and sweet days in a little flower shop in Tribeca. God, I love 'er.
Posted by: prufrock at May 6, 2005 12:01 PMi watched a man have a full-blown hissy fit in the enterprise car rental office. he even used the word "fucker" to describe the manager of the place.
i must admit, i got me some good snickers out of that experience!
Posted by: Ali at May 6, 2005 12:22 PMI hate naked guys at the gym.
Posted by: IRB at May 6, 2005 01:46 PMI just saw Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy this weekend, and towels seem to be very important. Not sure why. But very important.
I guess this just backs that up.
Your story brings me back to the behaviour of customers in every retail job I ever had. And waitressing job. And bartending job. I always made myself feel better by just imagining what small and powerless lives these people must have to want to create such a fuss.
Posted by: ap at May 7, 2005 08:27 AMPlease visit www.bloggytainment.blogspot.com!
Posted by: Bloggytainment at May 7, 2005 10:30 AMWhen I see that sort of thing I long for a big hand to appear from nowhere and pick that person up by the scruff of the neck and whiz them across the world and drop them somewhere like the slums of Bangladesh so they could see some people who REALLY have a reason to be unhappy (but surprisingly, aren't).
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contact@kaysbargains.com
When I see someone throwing their toys out the pram like that I wonder what makes them feel that they're so important that everyone else needs to hear what's got them niggled. Perhaps because they're a "somebody" in some company, they think they're still a "somebody" when they're at the gym, or standing in front of me at the newsagent checkout complaining about their newspaper being delivered 20 minutes late three times last week.
They might not say it, but you just know their thinking "Don't you know who I am?!"
Nope, and I don't care
Posted by: Captain Beefheart at May 8, 2005 07:20 AMI happen to not think it funny that you are all laughting at my personal situation, don't you all know who i am.....
Posted by: Mr. Bigstuff at May 9, 2005 10:01 AMIt has been ages since I have read you fish. My new teaching job is time consuming, yet I wanted you to know I am still reading!! :)
Hope all is well dear. ;)
Love from London,
Amanda
Ditto Amanda's comments. Been a while. Work sux. Where does all the time go? *hugs*
Posted by: Plantation at May 17, 2005 03:34 AM