The Locker Room
When I was in my early thirties, I decided to join a gym. I had recently broken up with my longtime girlfriend and thought that I needed to trim up a little bit. Aware that I most likely was going to be targeting women younger than myself, I felt like I needed to look my best. I took a tour of a local gym one afternoon. It was in a very large, two-story building with ample parking out front. If I recall correctly, it used to be a furniture store. The bottom floor of the building was now three separate lots. The largest of the three was unoccupied, while the smaller two had a tax business and a print shop. The entire second floor was the gym. The entrance to the gym was well-marked. Inside, …