I think the Swine flu has officially taken over the World.
Our office has officially been raised to 'level 3,' which consists of additional daytime cleaners who do a sweep of the office around lunchtime to address any 'hot stops' that may need attention, new antibacterial soap in the bathroom (umm not sure what the soap in there was before) and automatic sanitizer dispensers every 15 feet. It always baffles me when I see someone bypass the sink in the bathroom after using the toilet and reach their hands under the dispenser. Isn't this type of waterless-sanitizer for those times when you get get to a sink and soap? I really just don't get it.
This is all in the midst of my co-workers being 'diagnosed' with the Swiney. Seeing as she was due to a party of mine in a couple of days, I was rather happy to have her quarantined to her apartment, though the level of alert and anxiety seemed to grow knowing that she had been swaggering around with the Swine only a few days prior. Those in the immediate vacinity of her desk seemed especially agitated.
The first few weeks of the outbreak, the gym was a ghost town. I really came to appreciate it because you didn't have to wait for machines and the level of stench was down a notch or two given less sweaty-ass people in the small space (see ymca post for additional clarity on this subject). Then today I'm working out when I see a man coming through inspecting the 'cleanliness' of the cardio room followed by an old woman with a bucket of soapy water, sopping down each machine down. Apparently this isn't good enough for some of the members, as I am working out behind a woman who is on the stairmaster with 20 strips of paper towels hanging over the handle. Every time she changes her position on the handles, she grabs a new piece and places it between her hands and the machine. After 20 minutes she had a pile of sweaty paper towels piled up on either side of her. I was half expecting her to bust out a mask. She wasn't Asian though.
Recently they updated Swiney from an epidemic to a pandemic? Is that right? I don't feel like Googling it but I think that's right. At any rate -- it seems to really be sweeping the World. So watch out folks -- and don't forget to sanitize. Though if you're near a sink with soap, do yourself a favor and just WASH YOUR GODDAMN HANDS!
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
ymca
Starting 2009 off right, I finally decided to break down and join the gym. Generally I enjoy running outside for exercise, but the end 2008 was a rather cold and windy one in Brooklyn and I found myself skipping multiple days in a row and really lacking in the exercise department. I knew it was official when Stephen agreed that I used to have a nice body. The jig was up.
Given the fact that my roommates already belonged to the local Y, it was close and is the cheapest thing around, I decided it was my best bet. I live in a very diverse area of the country so it takes a lot to shock me, but the crowd at this Y is quite a sight.
The first week I worked out, I found myself next to a man who looked to be 110 years old, barely any meat on his bones, cycling on the bike with all his might. I literally thought he'd have a heart attack right on the spot. He was cycling when I get on the treadmill going full speed and was still going strong when I got off 30 minutes later.
Over to my left is another anorexic member, this time it's a woman on the Eliptical having a similar affair with her exercise machine. She was soaked in sweat and her eyes were rolling back into her head. Between the two of them, I was scanning the area for the closest payphone in case I had to call 911 should one of them collapse. At this point I am starting to think that everyone that goes to the Y is pretty die hard. Then this bitch strolls into the cardio room in jeans, a big jacket, bright sneakers and about 100 more layers under her jacket. She also has on thick brown glasses and a winter hat. I thought maybe she made a wrong turn and was looking for a local hipster bar. No such luck.
After finding an open treadmill, she proceeded to begin stripping down in front of the machine and piling her clothes in the corner. No need for a locker room or locker I thought to myself. After successfully stripping off half of her layers, she pulled out a small paperback book and began walking on the treadmill at a snail's pace. Bitch was reading small print Jane Austin while working out! This is particularly annoying considering it was January and everyone and their brother (including myself) starts or gets back into going to the gym. Therefore, the place is packed and there is always a line to get a machine around dinner time. Doesn't bother this one in the least, she is going to trot her ass slow as molasses on that treadmill for her allotted 30 minutes.
On my way out the door, I pass two bearded gingers on the stair masters and a jacked blond guy doing a couple free weights. I guess I'll have to learn to take the good with the bad.
Given the fact that my roommates already belonged to the local Y, it was close and is the cheapest thing around, I decided it was my best bet. I live in a very diverse area of the country so it takes a lot to shock me, but the crowd at this Y is quite a sight.
The first week I worked out, I found myself next to a man who looked to be 110 years old, barely any meat on his bones, cycling on the bike with all his might. I literally thought he'd have a heart attack right on the spot. He was cycling when I get on the treadmill going full speed and was still going strong when I got off 30 minutes later.
Over to my left is another anorexic member, this time it's a woman on the Eliptical having a similar affair with her exercise machine. She was soaked in sweat and her eyes were rolling back into her head. Between the two of them, I was scanning the area for the closest payphone in case I had to call 911 should one of them collapse. At this point I am starting to think that everyone that goes to the Y is pretty die hard. Then this bitch strolls into the cardio room in jeans, a big jacket, bright sneakers and about 100 more layers under her jacket. She also has on thick brown glasses and a winter hat. I thought maybe she made a wrong turn and was looking for a local hipster bar. No such luck.
After finding an open treadmill, she proceeded to begin stripping down in front of the machine and piling her clothes in the corner. No need for a locker room or locker I thought to myself. After successfully stripping off half of her layers, she pulled out a small paperback book and began walking on the treadmill at a snail's pace. Bitch was reading small print Jane Austin while working out! This is particularly annoying considering it was January and everyone and their brother (including myself) starts or gets back into going to the gym. Therefore, the place is packed and there is always a line to get a machine around dinner time. Doesn't bother this one in the least, she is going to trot her ass slow as molasses on that treadmill for her allotted 30 minutes.
On my way out the door, I pass two bearded gingers on the stair masters and a jacked blond guy doing a couple free weights. I guess I'll have to learn to take the good with the bad.
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