A padlock

The sunny Saturday hasn't yet seen my face as I'm extremely busy with all sorts of important tasks!
And it won't. It's already got dark. However, it's been a productive day.
...
That I wouldn't have  dreamt off. Another thing went wrong for me at the gym this week. the padlock wouldn't work. It got stuck. Nothing work. It was almost closing time and I desperately wanted to leave the place, but how could I? The cleaning girl tried to help me, no luck either. We had to ask the reception person to get it cut with a special huge tool. Can you imagine that?

The nice girl who burns up energy by actually doing work, not work out at the gym, had been chatting to me about always having to dash from work to collect her son from the carer on the way home. I remember making a remark that I would hate to make her wait for me to leave. Well, I did so anyway...

Hang on a moment. I just realised that the last time I tried to use the padlock was at this unfortunate gym in Fulham Road, South Ken on Thursday. I went there only to have a swim before work, as it was a stone throw away from my workplace that day. Well, it turned out to be an enormous problem to be admitted, as it is not my regular gym. What's the big deal? It's the same company, the same city... Anyway, I got admitted, supplied with a towel and chaperoned through the jungle of gloomy staircases and gym rooms into the miniature ladies changing room. It looked like a long corridor, preceeded by two shower cabins asking for a thorough clean. That astonished me, South Ken is not a slum area, after all! Well, I started to get ready and couldn't help overhearing two ladies who were really upset with the state of the showers. They called a staff member and kept complaining, clearly not for the first time. It wasn't most encouraging, but I thought I'd give it a try. When after a lot of effort I managed to squeeze all my belongings (it's January, mind you) into the miniature locker (almost half the size the one at my regular place), I discovered that my padlock doesn't fit. It was a bit too big! Oh no! Well, determined to have my swim, I put on some clothes and went back to the reception hoping I will find my way through the jungle of corridors, staircases and exercise spaces... I encounter a customer service style instructor asking one of the mantra questions, something like Are you OK there? or Having a good time? Unfortunately, I wasn't having a good time yet, but was still hopeful.

I reached the reception area. The same young tall self-confident man emerged from backstage and didn't show any compassion for me in this predicament. After a good deal of persuasion did he agree to lend me a padlock, on condition I'd leave mine with him.

With this obstacle overcome, I set of on my way back to the changing room, through the staircases, corridors and exercise spaces looking forward to getting into the pool and relaxing in the water. The locker locked, the swimming cap and goggles on, down the next flight of steps I descended hearing the music and... What was that? It was some kind of exercise class, no doubt! A two-hour one!I had to accept that it was a hopeless case.

Back I went, up the stairs, to get changed. The only consolation was not having to use the musty shower facility!

I retrieved my padlock and went into the sun and fresh air, absolutely disgusted with the caliginous gym with an unfriendly front desk man.

And tonight I used the padlock first time since that day. It makes one think, doesn't it?....