"So - where's the changing room?"
These are the words I uttered as I entered Leicester University's gym, aka Greenhouse 2 in Yuppy-speak. Looking around I saw rowing machines, cycles and various other torture apparatus but nary a sign saying "Changing Rooms". Something you might think is relatively common place in a gym, in fact wiser men than I might debate is essential.
Boy are they wrong.
The fellow at the counter looked at me in confusion, trying to hear me over the excessive decibels of MTV. Guessing from my confusion that I was new to the gym he said that I couldn't use the gym until I'd been inducted for insurance purposes.
That was yesterday. I've just returned from my 6pm induction. Lots of nodding, mmm hmming and sarcastically thinking, "So that's how a bike works" whilst straining to hear the imparted wisdom on weight training over MTV's dull clatter. The induction didn't involve me actually doing anything so I could completely misuse all the equipment out of ignorance and the instructor wouldn't know given I noted his propensity for surfing ebay on his computer.
What was more amusing was the Italian chick who was also on the induction with me. She was even more obvious in her, "Why am I here? I know how to work a bike!" and spent most of the time chatting up the instructor afterwards.
Gyms not bad apart from the obvious lack of changing facilities. You walk from the main building I work in to the gym, which is great in sunny weather but if it rains or snows it'll be a bit of a problem. The other problem is they left the door open and its next to the field where they cut the grass, so my hayfever is acting up for now. Time to go home, take some hay-fever remedy and have some food.
I'm off to see Revenge of the Sith this weekend but I'd better finish off the Clone Wars soon. Expect intelligent commentary (on Star Wars) by Monday.
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