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The Damned Gym


 I belong to the gym down the street. Now, when I first got to Ireland and took a look around and saw beautiful Georgian architecture and gated gardens, I thought that the gym would be full of medicine balls, Indian clubs and electric tummy wigglers.

But no! My gym is on FIRE! Seriously, there are flames everywhere - from the moment you walk down the tea-lit glass staircase to get into the gym, to the flaming torches that adorn the walls of the weight room. It looks like the sixth circle of hell in Dante’s Divine Comedy (that is the circle reserved for heretics, where they are trapped in flaming tombs).

Only the swimming pool is spared the tea light treatment. Ok, yes, it is surrounded by tea lights on all sides, but until the day that a tea light can burn underwater whilst ladies bounce through their Aquafit routine in their beskirted speedos, the pool itself remains tea light free. But don’t think the interior design team didn’t do their literary homework! This room looks like a combination of Plato’s Cave and Dante’s fifth circle of hell (thats the one on the river Styx where the wrathful fight each other on the surface of the water and the slothful gurgle restlessly below). The room has a blue hue created both by the blue tile of the pool and the blue lighting above. Its very dark, but only to draw attention to the projection that takes up the entire far wall with a continuous showing of The Blue Ocean. Its like The Cave - but for fish! There are also four inexplicable monitors on the side wall that show Jaques Cousteau specials, Gladiator, some other fish documentary and Gone With the Wind. Because swimming laps is the perfect time to get your movie on!

So a few weeks ago I was at the Damned Gym and I was on one of the weight machines when a woman walked past me and gave me a look like “I know what you did, and I don’t approve”. I smiled at her, ’cause thats how I roll, when suddenly it hit me: the powerful stench of stinkyness. It smelled like… poop.

“Ew!” I thought to myself, “she should say excuse me!” and gave the woman the “I know what you did, and I don’t approve” look.

Then I realized that the woman thought that I was the stinker! When we had exchanged looks we both realized that neither of us was the culprit, so we simultaneously turned our gaze to the two gentlemen at the free weights who had the nerve to already be giving us the stink-eye!

Then someone said “look, its a leak!” and sure enough sewage was spilling through a crack in the ceiling, absolving all of us from suspicion. But for that bare few moments we were all in the sixth ditch of the eighth circle of hell at the Damned Gym. (thats the one where fraudulent accusers go, and listlessly wander around in lead cloaks. We didnt have lead cloaks but those weights were pretty heavy).

So if you move to Dublin, say your prayers, eat healthy, and save for lipo, or you too may end up at THE DAMNED GYM.


3 Comments to

“The Damned Gym”

  1. On January 16th, 2008 at 4:03 pm fhwrdh Says:

    Glad I just joined. Sheesh.

  2. On January 17th, 2008 at 11:58 am Christine Davidson Says:

    I have always found the decor at that Gym really fun but now that you mention it there are a lot of nightmarish themes running around that place. What really cracks me up are the white padded walls in the change room and the 1970’s made for tv space ship set that comprises the whirlpool sauna area. I wonder if the design team may have been suffering from a bit of insomnia during the brain storming phase. I like spending time in creative spaces like this but raw sewage is just not my thing.

  3. On January 18th, 2008 at 6:50 pm Deb Says:

    ewww-sounds like your gym is pretty shitty. Seriously that deserves a second ewwwww…..what about the swing over the pool?

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