What a Lunk!

In a moment of desperation (and the balance in my checking account), I sent a resume to a posting on craigslist of a new gym opening up close to my house in need of front desk help. With my open mind, I pictured bike riding to work this summer wearing comfy yoga pants and tennis shoes, checking members in with some kind of electronic scanner thingy, ringing up $4 Muscle Milks and scoring a free gym membership. I got a call the same day for an interview. Just about the entire population of Reno is unemployed, so I thought I'd stumbled on to a decent opportunity. I showed up for my interview with "Gym Man" ... whom I was trying soooooo hard not to pre-judge. Black slacks, black polo with company emblem tucked into pants, bulging biceps and gelled short military hair. As we entered the interview room, he told me to, "take a seat in the yellow hand on the right". At the end of a long runway-like rug, there were, TWO plastic neon yellow hand chairs. You know the ones that might have been cool and moderne for like ... a second ... in a loft in SoHo? As I sat down on the hand, waiting for him to accompany me on the other side of the table, he said, "So, why don't you tell me about yourself while I unpack these boxes." He didn't sit down and didn't even LOOK at me. I couldn't believe it! The unemployment rate in this state has given employers such an advantage, they don't even owe you eye contact! So there I was trying to sell myself to a fucking wall while Sgt. Gel Head moved boxes.
When he finally sat down, he went over the membership pricing and the strict guidelines for answering the phone. After every sentence, he asked, "Any questions on that?" As in: "Right now, we're offering a $1 introductory sign-up fee. Any questions on that?" Or: "And your monthly membership rate is $10 per month. Any questions on that?" Jesus. I have questions about black holes, how the Mormon religion ever caught on, and why pubic hair has gone out of style, but I think I'm clear on the pricing ... thanks, Bud. He then told me to memorize the information and come back the next day for a SECOND INTERVIEW. Oh no! An employee for a minimum wage, part-time job that involves wiping down chrome with disinfectant cannot be chosen in one day, people!
The morning before my second interview, I did a little more research on the company. One of the gadgets this gym uses to entice membership is their "Judgment Free Zone" ... which I figured was a tactic to get the occasional, possibly overweight exerciser to join. It turns out, there's much more to that seemingly innocent marketing ploy. Controversy has been surrounding this east coast based chain since the beginning and I found several articles and news segments depicting the issue. The gym prohibits members from "grunting" while working out. Grunting? What qualifies as grunting? I mean, are we talking Serena Williams at Wimbledon grunting? A slight vocalized exhale when anyone over forty has to pick something up off the ground? Well this one poor weight lifting New Yorker found out. The manager of the gym actually kicked the guy out and called the cops because he "grunted" while bench pressing 300 pounds. And it gets worse. Another feature to the gym is what they call the "Lunk Alarm". The World War Two siren alarm and accompanying flashing light will go off when anyone "grunts, drops a weight, or JUDGES". And guess who's responsible for setting off the alarm? So, what started out as a simple front desk job turned into taking on the role of some twisted moral cop kicking out dudes whose vocal cords come too close together when they exhale. Can you say discrimination? Sexism? Flat out hipocricy? Let's see, we don't want you to judge, but we're going to judge you and then penalize you for it. I don't see how this chain is in business, but I know I won't be working there. I called up Bicep Boy and told him thanks, but no thanks.