Will Solicit for Gym Entry

As Kelly and I were jumping up and down in the rain, waving our hands in the air like a couple of mental patients I couldn’t help but wonder “is there really ‘no need to feel blue’ here at the YMCA?  They won’t even let us in!”

It happened one rainy evening when we were not going to run outside (I’m a fair weather runner) we went to the YMCA with guest passes that my mother gave us.  We wanted to try out the gym to see if we liked it and we wanted to do it for free.  So I picked up Kelly and we headed over to the Y.

Once we arrived at the Y (There's a place you can go, I said young man, when you're short on your dough) with our free guest passes, we marched up to the front desk with our heads held high, we smiled at the kindly older gentleman behind the counter and I loudly announced, "We are here to work out."  We handed him our guest passes and kept our big cheesy grins on our faces.  He looked down at the guest passes and back up at us and said, "Not unless you have a member with you."   He handed us the passes back.  "My m-m-mom is a-a-a member," I stuttered.  However, it wasn't enough for this old guy to let us in.  After he slowly explained (and removed the smiles from our faces) that we need a member with us to be allowed in to their VIP gym (with the picture of Jesus behind him) he asked us to leave.  None of our convincing words would change his mind.  We walked back out into the rain clutching our passes, in utter shock.  We had just been kicked out of the YMCA (Young man, there’s no need to feel down). 

We stood just outside of the main door, in the rain and started devising a plan to get back in (Young man, young man, pick yourself off the ground).  We would solicit one of the incoming members to pretend to be our mother and then we would be allowed in!  (Genius!)  Kelly and I started asking the members that walked by if they would be our mother. "Will you be my mom?"  But not a single person stopped to help us, they just kept walking by and giving us looks like we were strange or something!  Then Kelly saved the day!  She spotted a friend/acquaintance from college through the large, glass windows of the gym.  Her friend was on the second story of the building and on an elliptical.  We started jumping around and waving our arms and guest passes in the air in an effort to get her attention.  Finally, we were able to get her attention and she came out to see us.  She agreed be our sponsor (it was obvious that she wasn't our mom) and walked us back in to face the old man with too much power (There’s no need to be un-happy.  Dun dun dun dun duuuuuuh.)

The friend walked up to the counter like she had done hundreds of times (she's a paying member, you know) and addressed the old grump. "Hey Jerry, these are my friends and they have guest passes. I'll sponsor them." "Oh really? And how do you know these girls?" he replied.  The skepticism in the air was thick.  Kelly spoke up, "Oh we..." And that's when it happened. The old man hushed...and held up one finger. He turned to the friend and said "No, you tell me first...and then she can tell me. I want to make sure your stories match." So there, in the lobby of the YMCA, two former college classmates took turns whispering into the ear of an old man the name of the class that they shared. Luckily, the stories matched and he reluctantly allowed us to pass through the threshold and into a world of gym socks and sweat bands. Glory to the Highest!

Once we were in, we split up from the friend and headed to a Zumba class.   Waiting in the hallway to go into Zumba, Kelly and I started asking the other girls around us what they thought about it and we ended up getting a full review from an older lady.  She told us how she loves Zumba because it "gets you sweating, and it’s better than running!”  So we went in and secured a place in the back of the classroom next to our new hallway friend.  The music started and the unnatural dance moves commenced!  We were looking around at women in tank tops, spandex shorts, and running shoes with jingle scarves wrapped around their waists like belly dancers.  We were underdressed in our old t-shirts that advertised whatever activity the person that donated the shirt to Goodwill was involved in.  I looked to my left to see our friend from the hallway shaking what her momma gave her in the most offensive way for a woman her age!  The only problem was she was not with the rest of the class at ALL!  Good for her for trying, but God bless her she was dancing to the beat of a different drum.  However, Kelly and I weren't much better either (I said young man, put your pride on the shelf).  About 3/4 of the way through the class one of the instructors moved to the back next to us so that we could watch her and get the moves.  She made a big deal of moving to help us by weaving in and out of people just to get to the back row.  Once she was next to us, she kept yelling over the music, "No!  Kick, jump, step, step, and then shimmy!  Woooooo!!! SHAKE IT!!!"  We shook with all of our might and thankfully, our magical shaking sent her back to the front of the class.  The cool down could not come soon enough.  We waddled out of class on jelly legs and decided that Zumba was fun and with a little more practice, we might not feel so silly.  We wanted to belong to the Y, even after the less than warm welcome that we received from the gatekeeper and people not wanting to be our mother.  But after researching the price for the YMCA, it just wasn't for us. 

We were not done with the doorman though.  After I told my mom about being kicked out of the Y she got mad.  She explained that the guest passes were passed out at a health fair at her work as an effort to get new members at the Y.  So we went back with my mom and step-dad in tow (we were so nervous that I begged my mom to take us and let us in).  We walked up to the front desk troll and handed him our guest passes with all the confidence we could muster (which was look at our feet and hope for the best).  He again told us that we cannot use them without a member and I said, "W-w-we got these at a j-j-job fair."  He looked at them, frowned and said with a shrug, "Fine.  Sign in."  My mom and step-dad, who were standing the foyer not far off, silently walked out and left us to work out.  It was only after we were in and getting a locker that Kelly pointed out that I said Job fair and not health fair (It’s fun to stay at the Y-M-C-A!!)