Let's do the twist!

Chubby Checker and, well, ....not me, doing the twist.

I go to a gym on the Main Line. For those not in the Philadelphia region, the Main Line is (according to Wikipedia) “an unofficial region of suburban Philadelphia comprising a collection of affluent towns built along the old Main Line of the Pennsylvania Railroad…which in the 19th century became home to many sprawling country estates built by Philadelphia’s wealthiest families.”

I am not one of them.

But I work in the area and the gym is between my home and work. It’s convenient and all the cardio machines have televisions: that’s enough for me! They bill it as a “sophisticated club for sophisticated members”. I bring the status of their clientele down considerably when I roll in sporting some bumper stickers on my Corolla (“Adopt a homeless Lab!” and a couple touting the Democratic Party, which brings me particular delight because I think I’m amidst a lot of Republicans at that club). Occasionally, my car is the only non-luxury car in the parking lot, and we’re not talking mid-luxury like an Audi or an Acura, we’re talking full-on Mercedes Benz and BMWs out the wazoo. And that’s fine by me (I also feel a sort of pride considering Matt recently repaired my cracked front bumper with packaging tape…cheap but obviously very tasteful because, come on, it’s clear…not like that lewd silver duct tape).

Anyway, at my weekly training session where I get yelled at for eating cookies and cake, my trainer pointed out a man in sweatpants and a hoodie, who’ve I’ve seen many times before. “Do you know who that is?” she asked. “That’s Chubby Checker!” Then she started twisting and gyrating and yelled “Hey Chubby! Let’s do the twist! Come over here!” I was on, what my trainer calls, the sex machines (your legs go in and out and work your thighs) and really saw no reason for Chubby Checker to come over witness my general unease.

First of all, Chubby Checker has a very baby-like face. Secondly, this is what he told me when he got over to the sex machine and after my trainer introduced me: “I’ve been watching you and you look good. I have my eye on you and you’re lookin’ real good.” (I think he was remarking on the fact that I no longer make a scene when I'm told it's crunch time on the mat.) He left and my trainer told me to tell Matt that Chubby Checker was hitting on me and she laughed uproariously.

And of course he wasn’t, but I couldn't let an opportunity like this pass me up. (Come on! This is pretty much the highlight of my life.) So with that, here you go: a whole entry just so I could brag that Chubby Checker gave me a compliment today.