Not Going To Cripple Your Argument

, , , , , | Friendly | February 1, 2019

(It’s a Sunday afternoon, and there’s a ridiculously popular flea market close to my gym. It’s located in a small shopping area with a few other stores that are closed on Sunday and thus, nobody cares about the “customers only” parking. I broke my foot a while ago and this gym has therapists who help me get back in track. I’m not their only case, by no means the worst, and I know that a young mother, who got severely hurt during labor and is bound to a wheelchair, always has the appointment after me and needs one of the handicapped spaces. As I’m looking for a parking space, I see a car pull into the last free — of four — handicapped spaces. A young man with his family gets out.)

Me: “Sorry to bother, but do you have a licence? This is—“

Young Man: “It’s a cripple space. Yeah, if they’re going shopping, they can walk that extra few meters.”

Me: “Okay, even if that would change anything about this being illegal, the gym behind is you is open and some clients need this space. They come here for thera—“

Young Man: “Now you’re s***ting me. No gym rat needs a handicapped spot! Get lost.”

(The parking lot, as well as every other lot around, is crowded, and there’s no chance but luck to get a spot close to the gym. I’m already fed up and his attitude is the last drop. I get out of my car.)

Me: “Oh, okay, so would you like to explain to my ankle how I don’t need therapy, or would you like to explain it to the cops?”

(Getting out, my scar-covered leg becomes visible. I also wear a bright blue “stabilizer sock” underneath an aircast-like fixture wrapped around my ankle. It’s just for support during therapy, but looks pretty bad.)

Young Man: “S***, the h*** happened to you?!”

Me: “None of your business. Could you leave or would you like to see—“

(The guy got back in his car, pulled back, and drove off while yelling at his left-behind wife that they’d meet at the kebab truck. She looked frazzled, apologized, and left. I learned that my gym tried to get them all towed, but every contractor was busy keeping roads accessible. They started taking pictures of every car parking in one the spots and reporting them. The spots are still taken whenever there’s a flea market, but it feels good to know they’ll be fined.)

Roid Rage

, , , | Right | January 19, 2019

(I’m a bystander in this story. I am about to join a spin class which is scheduled to start at 1:00 pm. A triathlon group was in there prior, finishing a workout. It is 12:55 pm and the group is cleaning up their equipment when I hear this lady screaming.)


(One of the guys from the group tells her to calm down, but she keeps on screaming. Eventually, she storms out of the room, completely in hysterics, vowing to complain to upper management. I enter, all confused.)

Me: “Uh… did that really just happen?”

Employee: “Yeah, she does that a lot. Don’t worry; the spin class will start soon.”

Me: *jokingly* “Okay, but I’m totally complaining about you guys starting right on time. How dare you?”

(I found out later that the woman in question really did have a history of emotional outbursts when it came to working out. She had been banned before and was on the cusp of being banned again. Girl, chill.)


A New Year’s Resolution Guaranteed For Success

, , , , , | Right | January 1, 2019

(I’m the customer, arriving at my gym on New Year’s to cancel my membership because of scheduling issues. The employee is at the front desk helping a woman.)

Employee: “Welcome! Are you here for a tour?”

Me: “Uh, no… We’re here to cancel our membership.”

Woman: *looks shocked and bursts out laughing*

Employee: “Oh… uh…”

Me: “Our New Year resolution is to stop working out.”

The Hardest Workout Is Getting A Refund

, , , , , | Working | November 4, 2018

(I move back to my hometown. Wanting to get into something new, and in an effort to try to boost my self esteem a little, I decide to join a gym. I go to the local gym just a mile away and end up talking to one of their trainers. He’s a very nice guy, and obviously knows what he’s doing. I’m 19 and shy and naive, and we end up discussing a package plan with personal training sessions. Not really knowing how to say no to him, I explain that I don’t have the money for the down payment — about $200 — about half the cost of the package. The trainer explains that we can work out a slightly different plan, with cheaper payments, more often. I end up agreeing, and pay just less than a third of the total cost of the package. After all, I want to get in shape and feel better about myself, and having no idea where to start, I think that maybe he’s right, and this is a good way to go about it. I sign a contract, which states that I have a window of three days if I decide not to go through with it, and I can get a full refund, no questions asked. This is also discussed with the trainer and manager before I leave. However, the next day, my car suddenly breaks down. Now I won’t have the money to make any future payments, and I will just barely have the money to get my car fixed… if I don’t eat until my next payday. So, three days since I signed up, I go back in to explain the situation, just as they open.)

Manager: “[My Name]! Great to see you! How are you?”

Me: “Not so great. I’ve run into a couple of issues, and I won’t be able to afford the plan that I signed up for. My car broke down yesterday, and I need to fix it. I’m so sorry, and I really wanted to be able to do this, but I just can’t afford it.”

Manager: *suddenly looking a bit on edge* “What?! But you’ve already paid for half of it!”

Me: “No, I’ve paid for about a third of it. But I was hoping to find out how much it would cost for just a membership, with no trainer or special perks or anything.”

Manager: “Well, a basic membership is about $145, but you should really talk to [Trainer] about this.”

Me: *disappointed because I still can’t afford the membership* “Unfortunately, he told me that he wouldn’t be in this morning. And I’m sorry to say, I still can’t afford a membership here at this time. Can I request a refund?

Manager: *sputtering* “B-but, you’ve already paid! This is for your health! Isn’t that important?”

Me: “Yes, it is, but I also need to be able to eat for the next couple weeks. I need to pay rent and fix my car. This is the newest cost I’ve added to my life, but unfortunately, I made a mistake and cannot hold up my end of the bargain. I’d like to ask for my money back. As discussed before I left the other day, I had three days to change my mind.”

Manager: *with a facial expression that clearly states that she does not plan to refund me* “I’ll have to get the district manager involved. He won’t be in until [two days from now, clearly out of the three-day window]. But I don’t understand; you’ve already paid half! Just one more payment, and you’ll be golden!”

Me: “Ma’am, again. I only paid about a third of the cost. You approved it. And I won’t be able to make any future payments at this time.” *pulls out my copy of the contract* “Here, it states that I have three days to change my mind. Today is the third day. If you cannot do the refund until the district manager gets in, then I’d like something that explains that I requested a refund within the approved window. This also states how much I have paid so far. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but my circumstances have changed, and I have not even been able to come in and use the gym. But my request is within the contract’s guidelines. It has been less than 72 hours since I signed this.”

Manager: *looking kind of angry* “Nobody ever reads the contract! But fine. I’ll give you your refund.”

Me: *ignoring her hostile tone* “Thank you. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience.”

(I got the refund; however, it took three days to clear back onto my card. After this experience, I decided that if I ever wanted to join a gym again, it would NOT be this one.)

Doing A Boob Job, Not A Parenting Job

, , , , , | Right | September 27, 2018

(I work part-time in the children’s area of an “upscale” gym. The problem with children’s areas in gyms is that some people treat them like daycare, leaving their kids for HOURS when you know they aren’t working out that whole time. One boy is there almost every day, and is always a problem no matter how we approach him. He steals toys from other kids, tries to intentionally break things, ignores my coworkers and me, etc. It also doesn’t help that he is twice the size of other kids his age, and he knows it. I am told his mom has been notified, but nothing has changed. One day, he goes way too far and physically harms a smaller child. I sit him in “time out” to wait until his mother picks him up.)

Me: *to the mom when she walks in with one of her friends* “Ma’am, I’m afraid we need to talk to you about [Child].”

Mom: *ignores me, keeps talking to her friend, and holds out her member card to check her son out* “I’m telling you, [Doctor] is amazing! You can’t even tell they aren’t real!”

(She is clearly talking about her newly augmented breasts, which most definitely do not look real. She’s wearing designer workout clothes, has worn a bunch of diamond jewelry to a GYM, and doesn’t even look like she’s broken a sweat despite being there for three hours.)

Me: *fed up* “Ma’am? Ma’am!”

Mom: “What? I’m here for [Child].”

(I don’t want to discuss this in front of her friend, but have a feeling I don’t have a choice.)

Me: “Yes, I know, but we need to discuss what your son did to another child today. He physically harmed him.”

Mom: “Oh, I’m sure they were just playing and it was an accident.”

Me: “Ma’am, he punched and kicked another child who is half his size. I don’t think the other boy’s parents will consider that an accident.”

Mom: *has already stopped listening to me and is talking to her friend again* “I can get you a referral if you want, they have—”

Me: “MA’AM! What are you going to do about your son?”

Mom: “Excuse me?”

Me: “If you can’t address his behavioral problems, he will no longer be allowed in the children’s area.”

Mom: *now she’s heard me* “Who do you think you are?!”

Me: “I’m trying to tell you that you need to address this serious issue with your son.”

Mom: “Don’t you tell me how to raise my child!”

(She grabs her son’s hand and leaves. Right when they get to the door, the kid looks back and actually SMIRKS at me and my coworker.)

Coworker: “Did that just happen?”

Me: *facepalm* “Yes, yes it did.”

Coworker: “No wonder he has problems; his mom cares more about her boob job than taking care of her own kid.”

(I turned in my notice a week later.)

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