More overheard at the Canandaigua YMCA
I’m in the temporary weight-room (Wednesday, November 7, 2007).
That is, I think it’s temporary as they keep referring to it as the game-room.
During remodeling all the weights were moved downstairs to the game-room — from the old weight-room, which was remodeled and reopened as the exercise-gym. (That will be combined with the remodeled old exercise-gym to make a grand new double-size exercise-gym that will have fancy new machines — hopefully including the Nautilus-circuit, which is ancient.)
I only do one machine in the weight-room — and since all the treadmills were outta commission, I went directly to the temporary weight-room, which is downstairs in the dungeons.
“I’m not related to her at all,” a teenager said.
“Yes you are,” a pretty young thing with a blonde pony-tail said. “I’m your mother!”
Mother was sitting on a 36-inch exercise ball, bouncing it across the floor. (A dead ringer for the PowerBall N.Y. State Lottery ads.)
About that time Amazon-Lady waltzes in.
“Lissen to this, Michelle;” (Amazon-lady is Michelle).
“My mother gets a cellphone call from Iraq at 7:51 a.m., and 20 minutes later she gets another from Singapore.”
“Who do ya know in Singapore?” Amazon-lady asks.
“That was just some tech-support,” pony-tail says.
“And how about Iraq?”
“That was just some guy I met the other night at a bar.”
“Give us all the gory details,” a guy shouts from across the room.
“Wherein do ya know some guy in Iraq?” Amazon-lady asks.
“He’s a Marine, and just got sent back to Iraq.”
“How old is this guy?” Amazon-lady asks.
“28.”
“You’re old enough to be his mother.”
“I gotta picture of this guy on my cellphone — here, lemme show ya.”
“He’s hot,” Amazon-lady says; “but where’s his face? Ya missed his head!”
“I didn’t take his picture,” pony-tail exclaims.
“Well, what I’ve been thinking about all day is chicken-soup.” (Laughter.) “I have to multi-task chicken-soup when I get home. I baked the chicken the other day; now I gotta make the soup,” Amazon-lady says.
“Mother; you need to grow up!” teenager observes.
About this time I was tempted to chime in.
“Grow up?” I would have said. “What fun is that? People have been telling me to ‘grow up’ all my life, and I’m 63.”
“By not growing up I get to drive stodgy young pups up-the-wall,” I woulda said.
That is, I think it’s temporary as they keep referring to it as the game-room.
During remodeling all the weights were moved downstairs to the game-room — from the old weight-room, which was remodeled and reopened as the exercise-gym. (That will be combined with the remodeled old exercise-gym to make a grand new double-size exercise-gym that will have fancy new machines — hopefully including the Nautilus-circuit, which is ancient.)
I only do one machine in the weight-room — and since all the treadmills were outta commission, I went directly to the temporary weight-room, which is downstairs in the dungeons.
“I’m not related to her at all,” a teenager said.
“Yes you are,” a pretty young thing with a blonde pony-tail said. “I’m your mother!”
Mother was sitting on a 36-inch exercise ball, bouncing it across the floor. (A dead ringer for the PowerBall N.Y. State Lottery ads.)
About that time Amazon-Lady waltzes in.
“Lissen to this, Michelle;” (Amazon-lady is Michelle).
“My mother gets a cellphone call from Iraq at 7:51 a.m., and 20 minutes later she gets another from Singapore.”
“Who do ya know in Singapore?” Amazon-lady asks.
“That was just some tech-support,” pony-tail says.
“And how about Iraq?”
“That was just some guy I met the other night at a bar.”
“Give us all the gory details,” a guy shouts from across the room.
“Wherein do ya know some guy in Iraq?” Amazon-lady asks.
“He’s a Marine, and just got sent back to Iraq.”
“How old is this guy?” Amazon-lady asks.
“28.”
“You’re old enough to be his mother.”
“I gotta picture of this guy on my cellphone — here, lemme show ya.”
“He’s hot,” Amazon-lady says; “but where’s his face? Ya missed his head!”
“I didn’t take his picture,” pony-tail exclaims.
“Well, what I’ve been thinking about all day is chicken-soup.” (Laughter.) “I have to multi-task chicken-soup when I get home. I baked the chicken the other day; now I gotta make the soup,” Amazon-lady says.
“Mother; you need to grow up!” teenager observes.
About this time I was tempted to chime in.
“Grow up?” I would have said. “What fun is that? People have been telling me to ‘grow up’ all my life, and I’m 63.”
“By not growing up I get to drive stodgy young pups up-the-wall,” I woulda said.
posted by BobbaLew at 2:13 PM
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