You're Fine Just The Way You Are...

But if you wanna work out, you're welcome to join me at my $12/month gym in Astoria. I'm not sure what the official name of it is, but I refer to it as Average Joe's because at its best, that's what it is. If you're looking for cleanliness, shininess, or beautiful clientele you're better off joining the Gold's Gym across the street. But if you're just looking for a place where everyone around you makes you feel pretty and skinny, this is the gym for you.

I have only the "cardio" membership, which grants me access to the 2nd floor of the gym, where there are rows of empty stair machines and lines for the ten outdated treadmills. I prefer to frequent the unbroken elliptical machines right beneath the TV, because otherwise you won't be able to hear Seinfeld over the roar of Euro-Techno they blast on the gym speakers.

The "cardio" membership also includes aerobic classes, which I've never taken but often observed just to watch the teacher, an overweight elderly woman, demonstrate a move for about two counts and then clap her way through the rest of the 30 minute workout.

The weightlifting room, also known as the Manitorium, is what I imagine prison must look like. It's basically just a bunch of dudes in jeans and tank tops putting up huge amounts of weight and showing off their overly muscular barrel bodies. It's kind of hot.

In a lot of ways, Average Joe's is like an 80s time warp. Never in my life have I witnessed so much misappropriated spandex and so many inappropriate muscle shirts.

Note to women everywhere: just because they still sell spandex unitards doesn't mean you should spend your hard-earned dollars on them, let alone wear them to the gym. Unless you meant to wear an outfit that hightlights your flaws for the world to see, in which case you definitely found it. While we're on the subject, wearing a sports bra and spandex pants pulled up to your rib cage is another way to show off that awesome back fat.

Note to men: Nothing makes a girl want to barf (I mean really gag and heave) like seeing a greased up male body wearing a tank top. Does the presence of sleeves affect your workout so much that you absolutely must abolish them from your wardrobe? But it's not about the sleeves, is it? It's about the fact that you and the other dudes can compare and contrast your pecs while stealing furtive glances from across the weight room. It's cool, don't worry about it.

But the best part about my gym, besides the footless murals depicting men and women playing soccer, running, and even ice skating, is the signage. I'm talking specifically about a sign advertising self-defense classes. Taught by a 75-year-old man. Who is doing the splits across two chairs. The headline?

LEARN HOW TO FIGHT BACK! NEVER BACK DOWN FROM A KNIFE FIGHT AGAIN!