I wanna quit the gym!

Earlier this week, Heidi and I joined a gym. Because it's cold outside and half-assedly doing a 20 minute Pilates DVD four times a week just wasn't having the results we were hoping for. Go figure. It's the same gym my dad and uncle go to at 5 in the morning, but I doubt we'll ever run into them. Who works out at 5 AM? Crazy people, that's who. Anyway, so nine months after moving into our apartment, we discovered that residents of our apartment complex get a discount at a nearby gym. A significant discount. The guy who sold us our membership also pretended we were sisters and gave us a family discount. And waived the usual 1.5 million dollar registration fee. It is so cheap, you guys! So cheap! Which is good, because after we pay for cable, the Internets, and our Target addiction, we don't have a lot of money to just throw around all willy-nilly like Donald Trump, who probably not only lights his cigars with hundred dollar bills, but wipes his butt with them and ALSO has a giant room in his house full of monies and goes swimming in ginormous piles of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck.

The whole registration process was a long one, full of tedious paperwork, and the guy helping us (I'll call him Seth . . . because that was his name) told us he used to live on Wittenberg's campus AT THE SAME TIME Heidi and I went there. I asked if he was familiar with McMurray's (aka That Bar We Went To Every Other Night) and he said he used to be a bouncer there. So I'm actually surprised he didn't recognize us. I kind of wanted to be like, "Oh, hey, we were those girls who monopolized the karaoke machine!" or "You know all those missing bar signs from the walls? We took those!" or "Sorry if you ever had to yell at us at 2:30 in the morning because we wouldn't leave the bar" but I didn't say any of those things because he hadn't given us our membership yet and I didn't want to be banned from the gym before I had a chance to try out the Cardio Cinema. That's right, Cardio Cinema. You can watch movies while you work out. And sure, last night the movie was Rocky (I don't know which number as this was the first piece of a Rocky film I have ever seen) but flashy lights and loud noises make the time go faster regardless of what movie is producing them.

And now I bring you . . . Conversations With My Roommate: Gym Edition.

In the car

Me: I hope someone warned the gym we were coming.
Heidi: I know, we're probably going to say something inappropriate.
Me: Yes, LOUDLY inappropriate.
Heidi: Like vas deferens.
Me: Or cervix.
Heidi: Ew.
Me: Some words should not ever be said.
Heidi: I agree.
Me: Like panties.
Heidi: I hate that word.
Me: Also? Moist.
Heidi: Oh, yes! That word is banished!
Me: Also those words should never be put together. Because . . . moist panties? Ew.
Heidi: Oh god.
Me: Seriously, should we have called ahead to warn them we were on our way?

On the way to the locker room

Heidi: So . . . they spelled your name wrong.
Me: I know. Both of them!
Heidi: Yeah.
Me: At what point do you think I should tell them my name is not Jenny Baylar?
Heidi: Um.
Me: Probably before now?
Heidi: Probably.

In the cross-training room

Me: I wish sports wasn't on the TV.
Heidi: Didn't that guy say we could change the channel?
Me: Score!
Heidi: Can you reach it?
Me: YES . . . ok, maybe.
Heidi: What are you putting it on?
Me: Duh, The Office.
Heidi: What is Ben Franklin doing on The Office?
Me: I don't know, but it is all kinds of awesome.

Me [whispering]: Can I tell you something?
Heidi: Yes.
Me: I am uncomfortable with how much working-out-noises sound like sex noises.
Heidi: Haha, me too.
Me: Seriously, do you hear that guy over there?
Heidi: Unfortunately.

ALSO. We were privy to a conversation between two men on the other end of the room and DURING THIS CONVERSATION one of them, after saying that he'd had to change five beds at the hospital that day, said these magical words, "I peed in my bed! I puked in my bed! I pooped in my bed! I peed the bed again!" Have you ever heard anything so beautiful? Also, it's hard not to hurt yourself on a piece of gym equipment when you're laughing not only hysterically but also trying to be quiet about it.