I see towers where there were trees

A lot of things have changed for me in the last few months. Big things:
• New job
• New living arrangement
• New boyfriend (if six months qualifies as “new”)
• New underwear*

*I told myself when I was unemployed that when I finally got a new job, I’d reward myself with some fancy Calvin Klein and/or 2(x)ist underwear. Then I kind of went overboard in my celebratory glee. I think I’m set on underwear for a good five or six years now.

This week is bringing some other new stuff as well. Big stuff. In addition to the new Two Bathroomed One Fireplaced Barbie Dream Condo that the boyfriend and I close on this Friday (woo-hoo!), I have also become a member of an entirely new gym.

“Wow,” I can hear you say. “Jake joined a new gym. Alert the media!” I can totally hear you saying that. And frankly, I don’t like your tone.

But as of Friday, I am no longer a member of Crunch, the gym that has been frustrating me on many levels for the last six years. And why did I stay with such a discombobulated organization for so long? (There’s that tone again.) Well, because I used to get a corporate discount. And the gym was in the basement of my office building. And with my work schedule, convenience trumps competence if I’m going to make any gains in the self-absorbed world of physical culture.

But we lost our corporate discount last year. And my rapidly aging bod had developed a marked level of indifference toward every piece of equipment at my Crunch. And when I got laid off and started a new job last fall, my old gym was suddenly in a very inconvenient location.

So I joined a new gym last week. It’s a mere two blocks from the Two Bathroomed One Fireplaced Barbie Dream Condo, so it’s very handy. It’s considerably cheaper than my old gym, so it’s practical. It has so many different kinds of equipment, my rapidly aging bod doesn’t stand a chance of getting bored. And it’s populated with actual homosexuals—albeit the kind who pretend not to see you but still surreptitiously check you out in the mirror. Hey, homosexuals! I know how to use a mirror too! So I can totally tell you’re playing little reindeer games!

On the other hand, this gym is also home to veritable herds of Men of a Certain Age who show up every day to throw weights around in a desperate attempt to stay physically relevant in our youth-obsessed culture. My people!

My Crunch membership expired on Friday. But somehow I had it in my head that it expired on Tuesday. So when I showed up bright and early Monday morning for one last futile attempt at getting a pump off their equipment, I discovered I was no longer a valued customer. But the lady behind the desk waived me in anyway. So we are officially parting company on a good note.

And I’m about to get so huge with all this new gym equipment that they won’t even recognize me when I come back to visit.