Saturday, December 26, 2009


We have been members of one YMCA or another for a good long while.  Going on 7 years.  I relate to their mission, love their family friendly policies and their variety of offerings.   And they have always been convenient to where we lived.

Just one thing. Our local YMCA is lacking in… shall I say?  Cleanliness?

Yep, that’s the word.

Now I don’t gross out easily.  Sixteen years of raising 4 kids, a total of 5 dogs, 3 hamsters, 4 fish and 2 geckos—I have seen my share of bodily fluids and cleaned up more nasty messes than I could ever fathom counting.   Including a beta fish stuck to the wall like a huge booger.   I share this only to illustrate that it takes  a  LOT to give me the heebie jeebies.

The locker room at the Y gives me just that.  I shudder just thinking about it.  And I  have never considered myself high maintenance.  I don’t require spotless facilities or perpetually shining floors.  Before I was a lifeguard I was the cleaning girl at the local pool on Governors Island.   My job was to scrub toilets and hose out the concrete in the bathroom.

Nuf said.

But even I am given pause when entering the Family Locker room.  There was a hairball in the drain last week that rivaled Cousin It.  I think I even saw it move.

So, at my neat-freak daughter’s behest, I called another local gym.  I had assumed they didn’t have a pool.  Apparently I assumed wrong.  It is called Latitudes, and it’s website is heavenly.  Spotless floors.  Vacuumed rugs.  Amazing workout machines. Hairball-free drains. 

A juice bar.

Okay, I probably won’t ever spend the money to have someone make me a tofu-bran-mango-probiotic smoothie.   But it would be nice to not throw up in my mouth every time I go to take a shower.

The  locker room might be worth it all on it’s own. 

1 comment:

  1. are a terrific writer...I just love your posts!!! Big hugs, friend.