Feel the Burn Forever

"I need to sign up for the gym, and I need to make the body sculpting class in a half hour. Can you do that?"

"Have you toured our gym already?"

"Yeah, Yeah, I know where everything is, I don't need a tour. I'm here all the time with my friends."

"Okay, well, then I just need you to fill out this paperwork. I'll be right back, I'm just going to make a copy of your driver's license."

He leaves me alone in the tiny office to read. I have to be at that class, my friends are meeting me there. Then I see The Clause. I'm locked into paying $20 a month to this gym for two years. What is this, a cell phone agreement? What a damn sneaky way to get your money! Then he showed me the paperwork which stated how much that turns into by the end of the year...over $500 dollars!

So I sign my name to the paper with an angry florish, as if someone in the paperwork department will see my anger and change their policy. Afterwards I ask what they do if someone has to move? Seeing as how back home, this very minute, my father is laying in a hospital bed and no one knows what's wrong with him. I might have to move back to take care of my family.

He said that wouldn't be a problem, I'd just have to bring proof of my new address to their office, or if I got hurt a hospital bill. Of course, I'd still have to pay them $50 to opt out.

So this was it. I had joined the gym gang. The only other way out of this is death. I damn well better be skinny and hot by the end of these two years. At the very least I'll have lots of blogging material.