Is it just me or...?
Or what? I don't know.
Jeez! Get in there, on a Friday night at the gym! I wasn't there this Friday but there were a few sheepish faces when I went in this morning.
Apparently the new thing is a social on a Friday where all the members get together at 8-ish and have a drink at the gym bar.
Brent who works at the reception tells me that five members of the admin team were hauled out of a cubicle upstairs by the janitor. And they weren't in there having sex.
(Come on, think. What do a group of people do in a toilet stall if they're not having sex?)
And Brent says two members of the public were caught having it off in the pilates studio which should have been locked.
So who's up for next Friday's social at the gym?!
It sounds like a bloody good idea because once you've got the booze to get everyone a little relaxed, they all start doing what they've been aching to do for eons.
i.e. bashing one out while lying on the bench press and doing rim-style pull-ups. Or something.
Speaking of such, Brent says a few days ago the poor female janitor caught Steve the maintenance guy (who is so seriously revolting you would hurl were I to describe what he looks like...)
Anyway the poor female janitor walked in on Steve lying on the couch in the staff room with his pants around his ankles knobbing one off to Lorraine Kelly on the TV!
Steve is so awful - did I tell you? Brent says that Steve basically steals all the clothes he wears from members who leave them lying around, lives in a hostel and spends all the money he earns on an annual trip to Amsterdam where he smokes weed and hires hookers.
And Brent's no fucking angel either.
There have been a few times I've pitched up early on a Monday morning for a pre-work run and Brent has been gurning like jelly on a plate.
But it's not just at our gym.
Nicky who works out at that gym in Covent Garden says in the old days they used to have a member of staff on BJ patrol because the members kept gobbing each other off in the sauna.
BJ patrol meant going every 5 minutes to walk past and peer in.
But back to ours...
Brent was also telling me about Jamal who used to work selling gym memberships.
Jamal was seriously hot, like a mixed-race muscle Arab boy who had no hair at all but huge chunky biceps.
Apparently Jamal got the sack because he would sell a gym membership to one person and then give all their mates free guest passes ad infinitum.
Brent says the management reckon that in the end Jamal must have handed out around 5,000 guest passes.
And why did no-one notice?
Because he would tell his clients when to come and work out, then go and stand at reception to collect their passes and hand the passes back to the punters on the way out so that they could use them again!
Oh - and one more thing. Pound coins work in the sun shower in the men's loo.
So don't bother paying £5 for five minutes, just drop a pound coin in the meter and it works for five minutes instead.
Brent says that some busy-body as told management about it but the cost to get the coin machine fixed doesn't outweigh the amount people are defrauding it by.
Oh yeah, and Annita, the lesbian behind the bar has been made redundant so is fairly miffed. If you ask her nicely she's slip you a free protein shake.
Which is probably what she was doing on Friday night. Except it wasn't protein shake it was Pinot Noir. Which is why everyone was so drunk and copping off in various corners.
I just hope on Friday nobody jizzed where I was doing press ups because at one point it hurt and I collapsed face first into the mat.
Walking out with dry and crusty two-day old spunk on the end of your nose is not a path to glory. Urgh!
Tomorrow there will be no more talk of the gym, I promise.