Unorthodox Workout Planners and the Roommates Who Love Them

One of my roommates is out of shape, and he has a hard time motivating himself to exercise after working hard all day. Today he called me up on his way home from work and asked me if I’d like to accompany him on an exercising excursion. I really didn’t want to, but because he so rarely gets the gumption to propose such a thing, I got the feeling that if I said no he wouldn’t go at all. However, while his plan on the phone involved taking a long walk to a basketball court and shooting some hoops, his plan upon arriving home was almost identical except we were to end up at a bar somehow. Oh well, I wasn’t going to argue with him, because whatever it takes to get him exercising is okay by me.

So the brisk walk there goes well. Then we do a rapid paced shooting around with one guy rebounding and giving the shooter his lay-up when he misses, and then switching roles. If this is done fast, it can be a decent workout. If you’re horribly out of shape like my dear roomy, sorry if you’re reading big fella, this is enough to make you sweat like a whore on Nickel Night.

I was hoping he had forgotten the bar portion of the exercise plan or maybe after such a good workout it would dawn on him how counterintuitive that part of the plan was, but no such luck. He was intent on going to the bar. Well, if I was going to go to a bar on a Monday, I figure we should at least try out some new ones, so my dumb ass suggests we should hit all 3 new bars on Ashland that we hadn’t been to, since they were all on the way home. Here’s our results.

The Foundation: This bar was a little bit too classy for us. They were playing Postal Service, which is encouraging, but we felt out of place wearing gym shorts and carrying a basketball. We asked for a menu and left. I think I’d go there, but there’s a similar place a little closer to me, so it’s not very likely.

Four Shadows: As I walked in, an a-hole knocked the basketball out of my hand with a big shit-eating grin on his face. He meant well, but I still wanted to punch him in the ear. I have this thing about people doing stuff like that. Whenever someone knocked my hat off my head I really wanted to go ape shit on them. It’s weird because I’m not at all an angry guy, nor do ordinarily have a fiery temper. I think in a former life I may have been an Old West guy who shot people for doing that. I hope that past life guy was careful about who he told his pet peeve to, because in my experience it only makes people do it more, which for him would have meant budgeting for more bullets.

Sorry, about the tangent. When we asked for specials she named a few so-so ones and then she said they $6 pitchers of Stella. Now I don’t think it’s good for two people to drink pitchers on a Monday, but you have to understand how good a deal that is. You can’t get pitchers of CRAP beer for fewer than 7 bucks in Chicago, and Stella is a damn tasty libation. As we sipped our frothy brews we chatted up our rock-hard body, yoga-obsessed, female bartender who was planning a trip to China to study yoga under the Shao Lin monks. We both really wanted stay there and hear more off-the-wall shit from this gal, and there was plenty of it to be heard, but we HAD to make it to our third and final bar.

The Ashland: This bar looked exactly like it did when it was the Skylight, which is the bar we had our New Years party at in which we had over 150 of our closest friends. It was a smashing success. Anyway, the only new element in this incarnation is that you can play beanbags, or corn-holing if you’re from Indiana, there on Sundays, and you can play video games at the bar. I wowed the bartender and my roomy at my ability to rapidly flap my ostrich’s wings to jump on my opponents’ eggs before being killed by other ostrich riders and the dreaded Lava Troll in the game of Joust, and then we were on our way. We thought about going back to the previous fun bar, but opted to go home. Well, roomy opted to stop off for a bottle of jack, which I think he’s still working on, and then we went home.

I think if I accompany him on another exercise trip, I’m going to have to insist that his regiment is not capped off with copious amounts of alcohol, but I’m glad I got out there to explore these new establishments. You HAVE to know all your local watering holes. Anyone want to share his or her favorite spot and why he or she prefers to spend his or her money at said bar? I think some of you know that my loyalty lies with The Liar’s Club, but I also like this dive around the corner called Cody’s which has a bocce ball court out back. I haven’t played yet, but when I start throwing some bocce balls around regularly my blog entries may be even more inconsistent. Good night.