Okay, the thing with Jazzercise is, you really can't quit. They won't let you—I’ve tried. It's like a cult: Once you're in, someone has to send a team of deprogrammers to kidnap you out.
I had every intention of quitting earlier this month. But, as Betty (who power-guzzles her Kool- Aid) pointed out, my strategy was faulty. I went on a day when both Precariously Perky Julie and Casey, The Queen of Pain were there. I should have known better. They gave me all kinds of reasonable-sounding arguments why it was in my best interest not to quit. I caved.
Then, I went out of town, again, like we all knew I would. Since I didn't get home until after the 15th (the cutoff date for cancellations in any given month) I'm in through the end of September. This, of course, was their plan.
But... I figured I'd go ahead and fill out my cancellation for next month ahead of time (having come to my senses) when I drug myself in there yesterday.
Jules was ready for me. When I walked in the door, she shoved a clipboard at me and told me to fill out the form. Okay, I started doing that. A few lines in, I realized I was filling out the "I agree not to sue you if you kill me" form that everyone has to fill out once a year. I scratched my head. It wasn't time for me to do this. "Why do I need to fill this out?" I asked.
The place was full of people—Jules had some kind of special going on. She was very CONVENIENTLY too distracted to answer except for an over-the-shoulder, "It's the release."
Well, I knew THAT. I looked at her sideways. "You're just trying to distract me from asking for my cancellation form."
She trilled a laugh, tossed her ponytail, and quickly engaged in a serious conversation with someone behind me related to childcare.
“Here, Susan.” One of the class managers handed me a ticket. “We’re having a drawing today.”
When I turned back, Jules was chatting up a potential recruit. She had no time for my nonsense.
The crowd was moving toward the dance floor. All I could do was drop the clipboard and move with the group. It was that or be trampled.
After an hour with The Queen of Pain, I was too tired to argue with them.
Resistance is futile. At least I'll be 24 forever...
Peace, out...
Susan
8 comments:
Give it up, girl. The trying to quit part, I mean. It's in your blood to sweat and feel the pain.
Susan,
Who are you trying to convince here? Really? Everyone who knows you, knows how to convince you. Except you, of course. Someone ought to show you.
Hugs!
Carole, someone surely should! :)
Bob, I think you're right, and there's a name for that insanity...
Drawings, even. They'll go to extremes to keep you.
Give it up. I think it's God's will for you to keep going to Jazzercise. Or should look in the opposite direction, from whence the Queen of Pain probably sprung?
I should make clear that I did not WIN one of the 3 prizes given out, one of which was a coupon for a PORK SANDWICH. Another was a gift certificate to FATZ. I ask you, are these women not devious? They fatten you up, then tell you that you need them to sweat it off!
Actually before they went by the name Jazzercise it was called HOTEL CALIFORNIA...you can check in but NEVER CHECK OUT...bwah ha ha
Its a good cult though, where else will you always stay 24!
Oh and no one dies from drinking our Kool-Aid. Geez Susan now you got me thinking about buying some, isn't enough I have a PEPSI habit :-)
Imagine that! They brought all of those people together just to throw you off your game and keep you. Don't you just feel the love ... or is it the burn?
Ha! No, Babby, I know it wasn't all about me. (Shocking, I know, but some things aren't. :) )
BUT, PPJ used the situation at hand to manipulate me. She's no dummy. She wants to keep all those bank drafts coming in. Oh, yeah, and she wants to advance fitness--and World Peace--in Greer/ Taylors. (You should try it!)
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