The problem with Susan Garcia’s favorite gym
A decade or so ago, I was a gym rat. Every night at around 10pm, I’d drive to the 24 Hour Fitness on Sunset, deep in the heart of Hollywood. From what I overheard, the gym was full of actors and models in peak physical condition… and then there was me. I would write “people seemed to go there specifically to be noticed,” but that should go without saying. This was
Hollywood, where people of all genders always seemed to have spent hours primping and coiffing and moussing, just in case a director were to discover them ordering Panda Express and make them a star. I’m generalizing, of course.
But only just a little. Hollywood was the only place I ever lived where people seemed to do their hair just to take out the trash.
The gym was no different. I’m guessing. Because I perfected the art of tunnel vision. I went out of my way not to ever turn my eyes to look directly at anyone - not even a glance - because at the age of 35, I didn’t want to be the creepy old guy at the gym. Jerry Seinfeld’s advice to George Constanza was advice to men everywhere. It’s “like looking at the sun. You don’t stare at it, it’s too risky. You get a sense of it, then you look away.”
Your story about hair being coiffed is so true, when it comes to the gym. You can’t help but notice the guys who are all beefed up from steroids and walking around like they’re Mr. Universe. And the women...another treat! Long fake fingernails, very tanned bodies which exhibit long beautiful hair but also fake boobs tucked into the teeniest tops. All are distractions, no matter how hard you try to do your workout. :)
i lived in LA 27 years, how accurate your story is! (and don't get me started about HOA's)