Today’s YMCA folly

(DO I EVER LEAVE THE VAUNTED CANANDAIGUA YMCA WITHOUT SOMETHING UTTERLY INSANE TO WRITE UP?)

I’m on a cardio-theater treadmill, a treadmill with a small flat-screen TV monitor, so you can watch TV while exercising.
Mine is off, but the one next to me is on, although no one is on it.
It’s closed-captioned, of course; closed-captioned or bring your ear-buds.
A movie or something is on; brought to you by 20th Century Entertainment.
Matronly housewife and 300-pound bespectacled Bimbo are manning the checkout at a minimart. (I should explain that Bimbo is male; since I have readers who think all bimbos are female.)
Suddenly a gang of seedy thugs bursts in, brandishing pistols.
“I need the combination to the safe, dude,” lead robber shouts at Bimbo.
“I don’t know it,” Bimbo says; “so ya can’t have it.”
Housewife drags him aside. “I think these guys mean business,” she says. “You gotta spill that combination or we’re all dead.”
“I have my principles,” Bimbo says. “I’d rather be dead than a wimp. What do I have to live for anyway?”
“I need that combination, dude,” lead robber shouts, pointing his pistol at Bimbo’s chest at close range.
Both Bimbo and housewife faint and topple to the floor like felled trees.
More yammering by housewife to Bimbo — except this time Bimbo reveals his love for housewife.
“I’m sorry,” Bimbo says; “I know you have a husband and three lovely children, but I’ve always loved you.”
Housewife wrings her hands.
“These guys are serious,” she says.
“But I don’t know it,” Bimbo reveals. “I’m the Assistant-Manager, but the store-manager never gave me the combination. He didn’t trust me with it. A guy from the photo-department empties that safe every night.”
Hours pass; the robbers and robbees are at impasse.
“Here, you want the safe?” Bimbo shouts to the lead robber. “I’ll give ya the safe!” he glares.
The robbers scatter as Bimbo rises up, grabs the safe, and tosses it across the room.
The safe hits the floor and breaks open, spilling its contents.
Lead robber grabs the cash-envelope, and all the robbers run out the door.
“I didn’t know you had it in you?” housewife says.
Bimbo basks — manliness redeemed.

Credits begin — end of story. —What can I say?
(The writers are back.)