Hitting The Showers At Jack LaLanne
Rod Townsend (aka our commenter Momo), sometimes receives telephone calls from The Past, a mysterious entity that remembers where things used to be in New York before Starbucks and Whole Foods came to town.
"Hello?"
"Sizzlesac, I joined a gym, and let me tell you—I'm completely worn out. "
"That's fantastic! Healthy living! Are you focusing on cardio or weight training?"
"Um, yeah. Those and blowjobs."
"Please tell me you're not becoming one of those 'Steam Queens' with the red faces and bulging eyes. In addition to being bad for you, it's just...."
"Steam rooms and saunas are for amateurs. At Jack LaLanne's the sex is everywhere."
"At who's?"
"Jack LaLanne's. I just joined the gym. It's in the basement of the Woolworth Building."
"All the way down there? Are you still living on Ludlow?"
"Yeah. It's a little far, but it's super cheap and totally worth it. See, Paolo started seeing a guy that works there or something, and I've been dating this guy that was on the Olympic swim team, back in Colombia? Anyway, Paolo and I were looking at our skinny arms one day and were like, 'We should get bigger guns'. Not in that 'steroids to cover the meds' kind of way, but kind of like 'look at my guns; they're a reflection of my free time and affluence' kind of way, you know?"
"I guess, but...."
"So we both joined up, but Paolo's never gone back, but I totally put on the rollerblades and go there through Chinatown (which is insane by the way). At the Woolworth building, you go into the 'once fancy but now kind of run down' lobby. There's this security guard that totally knows what's up, and he's flirty and semi-sexy. Very 'if it was his birthday, but it'll never be his birthday'? Then you go down to the basement and there's Oo La La."
"Oo La La?"
"Just a name that's easier to say and makes it seem a little swankier. Because it's kind of a dump. There's lots of machines, but there's always broken ones. And the treadmills are all wobbly. I just think that's a sign that they totally know what's up downstairs by the pool."
"Swimming?"
"In a sea of men. Or semen if you get in the hot tub. Not that I'd ever get in either one of them."
"So you don't use the equipment upstairs and you don't swim. How are you ever going get your 'guns'?"
"I'm not Annie! Ha! Um.... No, sizzlesnatch, I do some free weights and stuff. I sort of watch some of the other guys and do what they do. And then guys see me looking and then there's all these 'sorry, just trying to squeeze by' moments. But the pool is too dirty for me, and who knows what happens in that hot tub, but I just don't think the recipe for sperm stew requires this chicken."
"But if you're not having sex in the hot tub or the steam room, where's it happening?"
"In the shower stalls, winkywang."
"Well, I guess what happens behind a closed door....
"Door?"
"Sorry, curtain."
"Curtain? No, it's all just sort of out in the open. After all these phone calls did you somehow get the impression I was shy? Do you even listen?"
"I even take notes."
"You better. I won't be around forever you know. I'll call you next week!"
