Unfiltered Story #207986

, , , | Unfiltered | September 12, 2020

A woman comes to the gym with her dog sticking out of her gym bag. She swipes her card to enter but we at reception block her.

Woman: Why can’t I go in. I know I have 8 visits left!

Me: Ma’am we don’t let pets into the facilities

Woman: But he’s well behaved

Me: I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter how well behaved the animal is. Unless it’s a service dog they must stay outside

Woman: Fine, it’s a service animal

Me: (inwardly groaning) No it’s not. It’s not wearing a vest and it is in your purse

Woman: You can’t question my service animal, it’s illegal!

Me: Actually Ma’am I am studying law and I know that you will have to prove that you have a disability within the meaning of the Service Animal Code, and that the animal is necessary for reasons related to the disability. This typically requires some form of medical documentation. Can I see your medical documentation for this animal?

Woman: (speechless for a few moments) Oh just let me take my dog in!

Me: No, I am not allowed, ma’am.

Woman: You know what? It’s not about you letting me in, it’s about you STOPPING ME!

She tries to sneak past the doors when a member opens it but security, who had been called by my coworker when she saw things escalating, quickly escorted the woman out of the YMCA

You Can’t Mask It With Charm

, , , , | Right | September 4, 2020

With the new mandated mask order, most people have been understanding that they still need to wear a mask while in the gym and working out. We have a number of signs posted, as well.

I am at the front desk greeting members when a member walks in without a mask. 

Me: “Hi, welcome in! Before you come in, do you happen to have your mask with you?”

Member: “Oh, do I need one?”

Me: “Yes, you do.”

Member: *Smiling* “I don’t have one.”

Me: “With the new order, it is mandatory, so you will need one if you are going to be staying.”

I’m about to tell him I have some for sale but he cuts me off.

Member: *Still smiling* “But I don’t have one.”

Me: “Well, I can sell you a disposable one for $1, a face shield for $5, or a reusable mask for $10.”

Member: *Frowns* “I have one in my car.”

He wasn’t rude, but I definitely got the feeling that he knew the mask was mandatory and was trying to charm his way out of wearing one. Once he realized I was not going to let it slide, all of sudden, he now had one.

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You Catch More Members With Honey

, , , , , , | Working | August 27, 2020

This happens when I’m an awkward teenager in the early 2000s. At the time, personal voicemail messages on phones are common and it is not unpopular for people to have jokey ones. Mine is something about how, “I’m not ignoring you; I’m ignoring the world,” or something.

I go to a gym to see if the prices are something I can afford on my pittance of a wage. The staff member I’m talking to kind of browbeats me into starting to sign up for a membership and, anxious and awkward, I don’t really think about the fact that I can’t afford it and just let her railroad me into it. But it turns out I’m lacking ID, so I leave.

Away from the place and without anyone pressuring me, I can think clearly and realise there’s no way I can afford it, and given how this woman has pressured me, I don’t want to call and explain this, so I just don’t go back. I haven’t signed anything, so no big deal, right?

A few days later, I get a voicemail and I listen to it. It’s the same woman from the gym, sounding outright angry, saying, “Well, you’d better stop ignoring me. Get your a*** down to the [gym] and finish this paperwork!”

Yes, that’s what she said. No, I’m not exaggerating.

Once things picked up for me financially, I did join a gym — a different one. And then, when I moved and was close to the first gym, I instead used a college gym. I did finally join, over ten years later, and I love the place, but wow, that woman left a sour taste that lingers to this day.

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But Can She Do A Superhero Landing?

, , , , | Friendly | August 25, 2020

I am greeting members at a gym. A member walks in wearing a shirt with Deadpool riding a unicorn on it. I am female.

Me: “Hey, I like your shirt!”

The member looks at me, surprised and caught off guard.

Member: “Thanks?”

As he and his friend walk away, he turns to them and says:

Member: “Girls like Deadpool, too?!”

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Check Yourself Before You Wreck Someone Else

, , , , , , , , , | Healthy | August 6, 2020

This took place about eight years ago. My younger brother and I join a group of guys for a game of indoor football — soccer — at our local sports centre every weekend. Everyone else is college age, seventeen or eighteen, while I am the eldest at twenty.

Things go by smoothly. One of the guys is a friend of ours, and there is a clear mix of ability so there is little in the way of unbalanced teams. Nonetheless, one of the guys is super competitive and continually body-checks others into the walls in order to tackle them. As the eldest in the group, I have de facto responsibility to ensure everyone’s health and safety, so I gently ask him at the end of the session to tone down his tackling, since he could seriously injure or be injured in doing so. As I feared, he simply brushes it off and says everything will be fine.

Cut to a few weeks later. My brother is unable to come with so it is just me this time. Everything goes fine until a harsh tackle from me on another guy causes me to roll my ankle, causing me to fall hard on my lower back. As play stops, the idiot I mentioned has the brilliant idea of grabbing me by the arms and ankles and carrying me away from the playing area!

While they carry on their game without a care in the world, I am lying there in agony. Between the now worsened ankle injury, they also jarred my lower back by unceremoniously dumping me on the floor. My friend stops playing and comes over to see if I’m okay. I immediately order him to get a member of staff, which he does. When the on-duty first aider — also the manager — arrives, the guys laugh and tell me to “stop acting like a p****,” to which my friend replies that this is serious.

An ambulance is called and my mother arrives after my friend used my phone to call her. About six hours later, I leave the local hospital on crutches with a severe high ankle sprain and strained lower lumbar muscles, and a metric crapload of various prescription painkillers. The following morning, my ankle has swelled to twice the size and looks the colour of a ripe blackberry. I take a photo for my university as proof — I commute to the uni and will be in no shape to get there for at least a week, maybe even two — and settle in to working out how to use my crutches effectively.

Six months later, I start training again to get my fitness back, and my brother and I go back to the football group. Naturally, they laugh that I took half a year off for “diving”…

…until I wordlessly walk up to the idiot in charge and show him the photo of my blackberry-coloured, inflated ankle. I stress my warning back to him from way before, and I swear I have never seen the colour fade so fast from someone seeing consequences of their actions. 

Nowadays, my ankle is fully functional, if slightly more tender, while my lower back has developed into full-on sciatica. Still enjoy football, though!

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