My WTF for the week (scarily, on Monday):

As I strolled through the doors of my gym this evening, I was greeted by a man standing next to a display table, which is not unusual for my gym. There are often vendors who advertise in the lobby, for things like personal training sessions, blood drive info, healthy-lifestyle workshops, etc. This display table, though, was covered not in fliers or business cards, but CHEESE. Glorious, marvelous Babybel cheeses and little packets of crackers to go along with it. WTF?!

Now, don't you dare get me wrong: I do not have a problem with cheese. What does have a problem with cheese, however, is my booty, or "the genetic betrayal that is my legacy," as Janeane Garofalo so perfectly put it in Romy & Michele's High School Reunion. In fact, cheese is probably the main staple in my diet that makes it necessary for me to pay crazy NYC gym fees- it's my main snack food and without it I'm sure I'd have slightly less...er, junk in the trunk (but I'd be far crankier).

Anyway, I just thought it was pretty odd. Cheese and crackers at the entry/exit path of a concert? Yes. At a park? Sure! At a supermarket? A main perk of HyVee, which I miss way too much! But at a gym? Hmm...well, I guess they've got a member for life. Well-played, NYSC.