I work out at a really nice LA Fitness in a really rundown neighborhood. I go there super early every morning, and park on the street, figuring the hoodlums ain’t hopping out of bed before sunrise.
But last week, I walked out of the gym, and a nice woman who works out at my gym told me she watched a Camry pull up, and some drug-addled dude get out and attempt to break into my car.
When he sensed people were around, he split, but that was enough to make me think it might be time to step up to something better. In a somewhat nicer neighborhood close by is an Equinox, the wet dream of fitness clubs. To us LA Fitness palookas, Equinox was like a legend. We imagined sumptuous accouterments. The married guys constantly want to scrape together the monthly fee just so they can watch hot chicks work out. A petting zoo is cheaper, boys.
Equinox comes with a price, and it’s steep: $151/month. LA Fitness is a ridiculous $13/month. But I can’t put a price on sidestepping my car’s window being smashed. And on its website, Equinox was holy shit nice. Locker rooms that were more like spas, lined with complimentary Kiehl’s products. Massages. Eucalyptus-infused towels. Celebrities literally rubbing elbows with you in spin class. I procured a three-day pass.
And after one day, I tore it up. Yesterday, in fact. Equinox is the most overrated club on the planet. It’s New York City of gyms. It didn’t have half the equipment a guy needs to get a real workout. The Kiehl’s products were in giant vats, including one that ran into a little squirt bottle labeled “deodorant.” Yes – group deodorant. All of this for more than ten times as much as I was already paying. But on the bright side, I’d be getting ten times less.
So now I know. Vandalism is worth the workout. And Equinox is one chick with full-blown diarrhea.
