Sunday, November 17


On Friday I went to visit a new gym, located above our local supermarket. Visiting this gym was something I had been planning to do for a while, especially since I’d been feeling slightly out of shape. Inside the gym a tall young man was standing behind a large counter. He was wearing blue shorts and a white T-shirt, an outfit which was supposed to be trendy, and introduced himself as Jean-Pierre. “So your name is Margot?” he asked gently, while looking at my breasts. Jean-Pierre had a small beard, the kind of beard which used to be fashionable, but was now considered mainstream. In any case it didn’t do much for his face. He gave me a tour of their venue, perhaps hoping I would sign up straight away. Upstairs was a room full of treadmills and stationary bicycles. People were cycling and sweating in front of a large television screen. I wondered why they didn’t prefer to cycle outdoors, where the miles they made would actually get them somewhere. When I left Jean-Marc I imagined myself biking aimlessly in the rain.