The entire basketball court was packed with 60-odd ladies and a few gents of all ages - or at least the ages that remembered the lyrics of songs younger people call 'oldies'.
There was no room anywhere but by them, so I joined them.
We were all marching in place and stepping and toeing and heeling when "Peggy Sue" came on and these back-of-the-room ladies started singing and dancing their own steps.
They had that sparkle in their eyes and I swear if we were all in high school together, I'd do anything to go smoke with them in the girls bathroom.
Then the teacher said, "O.K. I'm changing the music, so NO CHIT-CHATTING! O.K? NO CHIT-CHATTING."
The minute she said that, all three were off to visit with other friends in the far-flung corners of the huge basketball court.
Aretha came on and well, what the hell why not... while everyone was doing triceps and bicep and shoulder presses, the four of us started dancing and singing "Rescue me! Take me in your arms! Rescue me..."
Just as good as the girls' bathroom and well, much healthier than smoking.
However, getting them to stand still for a picture?
Like herding cats.
You want me to use your names, I asked them, or should I just call you the Bad Girls of the Gym?
"BAD GIRLS OF THE GYM!" they shouted and went off laughing and joking with all their friends.
**
Related Posts:
Sometimes You Can Go Home Again
No comments:
Post a Comment