If I do the happy dance of joy at the gym...does that count as a workout?

Good afternoon all!

So I went with Dee to "Silver's"  last night. (Names are changed to protect those who have a sense of humor from those who do not.)

My frustration with the entire process of joining Silver's has been well documented.  The high pressure sales tactics that got me to sign on the dotted line made me feel stupid, on top of really super fat.  The only reason I didn't quit right then and there was...well...I couldn't. (Well, unless I died.  Then I get out of my contract with Silver's.)

And, of course, we all know about Steve, the crumb blowing trainer.

My continued frustration moved to a new phase yesterday as I was preparing to go to Silver's to get Dee a membership under their new "sale."  Last week I'd called to ask about the enrollment fee.  (Enrollment fees, for those of you not in the know, is the ridiculous amount of money health clubs charge up front, unless you make a face like you're going to walk out the door, then they cancel it.  Enrollment fees are the appendix of the health club contract.  Nice to have, but if you have to lose it, you're still good.)  I asked the woman "Is there an enrollment fee for anyone joining under this sale?"  She said, and I quote, "NO."

So yesterday I called Ryan, a pleasant young man I've spoken to before.  I again asked the question about the enrollment fee.  He said, "Oh, there's a PROCESSING $49 fee to join." 

This started a phone exchange I won't bore you with, but I believe I said something to the effect of, "Ryan, it doesn't matter what you want to call it, an enrollment fee, a processing fee, a SCREW YOU fee, the fact is that I was told on Friday there was no fee and now you're telling me that there's a $49 fee."

Funny how things get passed around. 

When we get to Silver's, Ryan wasn't there.  (I have my own thoughts on the matter, but mostly I think big bad Sarah scared another young un into hiding.  Which is funny because I'm generally thought of, by those who know me, as a big honkin' doormat.)  Instead, we were met by a gentleman named Mark.  Mark seemed jovial enough, he gave us a very nice tour of the place, Dee and I liked him very much.  When we sat in his office getting all the paperwork together, Mark pulled up my account. The first thing he did was give me a good long stare.

I hate being stared at.  It makes me feel...fat.

"You're hair is shorter and..."

I realized he was looking at my club picture. 

Okay, I should explain about that picture.  It's terrible.  It may very well be the worst picture I've ever taken, and I have a drivers' license and a passport picture I'm not too fond of.  It was one of those days I went to the club before I prettied up.  Which should give you some idea of how horrible it was.  Plus I didn't want to have my picture taken, plus it was 800 degrees in that stupid unairconditioned building.  So that picture makes me look like a big, fat, sweaty, greasy, angry, stoner.  (My eyes were, predictably, closed.)

We had a good laugh about that picture, Mark, Dee, and I.  Then he started working on Dee's contract.  And he said, "You'll have to pay your first months', last months' , and, of course, your 'screw you' fee."

Friends, it's been a very long time since I actually wet my pants, but Dee and I were laughing so hard, I nearly did this time out.  Apparently Ryan, in his desire to escape seeing Big Bad Sarah, had to give a reason he was afraid of a chunky middle aged woman he could easily out run without breaking a sweat.  My picture should have done the trick, but the note 'screw you fee' just adds more mystery to the beast that is me!

From that moment on, it was a lovely time there in Mark's office.  No high pressure.  No lies.  No brushing certain facts under the rug.  I loved it, and I told Dee I was jealous of the way her signing on was going.

Then they got to the part where Dee was going to get her two free sessions with a trainer. Mark asked if Dee had a preference, male or female.  I said, "as long as it's not crumb blowing Steve, you'll be good."

Dee, of course, reads this blog.  She knows Crumb Blowing Steve.  We had a good laugh.  Mark looked befuddled for a moment, then nodded his head.  "I know who you're talking about.  He no longer works here."

Sometimes good things just keep happening all in a row.

Mark brought in Kate the personal trainer coordinator person,  and the two of them started talking a bit about how things at this Silver's had improved since the start.  (Turns out, I've been at that Silver's longer than they had.) I mentioned the bumpy start to my enrollment and another name came up.  I'll call him Walter, because I can't even laugh at how that man left me feeling once I'd gone through his high pressure sales tactics.

It appears, Walter is also no longer there. 


Better yet, Kate, bless her heart, is giving me two more sessions with a trainer she promises will not blow donut crumbs at me and one who knows who Rick Springfield is.  Then Mark had Very Nice Ken make us smoothies and we danced a dance of joy.

After much reflection, I've decided Karma is a funny thing.  And what we can take away from this is that if you lie to a fat woman, or blow donut crumbs at her, bad things will happen.

Now, Ryan, if you're out there...you have no need to be afraid of me.  Really.  I generally don't bite, no matter what my picture looks like!