24 June 2015

FEC Fitness

Health crisis. Apparently the tiny FEC gym in a tiny dedicated room is not doing its job. Instructions for the rowing machine are incomprehensible and the walking machine has been abandoned since Arthur had his freak accident. We suspect most of the equipment is antiquated, somewhat like the users.

Funds from Upper Levels in the FEC management have been allocated in an effort to rehab the sedentary as well as the house hippos: get 'em exercising. Naturally Mr. OC of the Inmates Committee is miffed at not being consulted. His spiteful demented humming can be heard late at night.

Therapy fitness classes are hereby the new distraction. Attendance is voluntary, of course. Nevertheless it draws the bored, the socially-challenged, and those who think free food might be involved.
To that end, a perky Y-generation person bounces to the front of the common room to lead the class and introduces herself as Kaylie. She faces an assortment of FEC inmates residents in various stages of decay. Her beaming smile never lets up. Even when McElroy starts a running commentary that booms off the walls. Ms Etoile, ever the cheerleader for any new FEC enterprise, adds her own stage voice to encourage and create the essential esprit de corps.
"Darling!" Ms E fawns, "So COOL!! Your wonderful tats!"
"Looks like she fell into a dye vat," Ophelia says to Sheila.

"We can do the first part sitting down," Kaylie announces.
McElroy: "SPEAK UP, LITTLE GIRL, SOME OF THESE OLD COWS ARE DEAF!" Sheila kicks his chair.
Ms E: "Does it hurt, hon? Piercing your skin like that?"
Kaylie: "Now. Spread your arms wide like this and we'll do circles."
Mouthy Monica takes the opportunity to swat Mildred across the face. Feuds keep some of these people alive.

Kaylie: "Now we do neck circles, like this. Not so fast, George! You'll hurt yourself."
George: "I already did. Now my neck is stuck."
Ms E: "I was thinking of getting a nose piercing myself."
Bella: "I like yoga better."
McElroy: "YOU LIKE VODKA EVEN BETTER, HARHARHAR YOU LUSH!" Jeremy whacks McElroy on the back with the effect of a feather striking a bouncy castle.
"Okay," says Archie, "that's enough for one day."

Kaylie: "Next. We want to bend over and reach for the floor. Like this."
McElroy: "NICE ASS!"
Wanda looks around wildly. She only has peripheral vision, unsure whose ass is under scrutiny. Maxine is napping. Sally is on the floor doing her own exercises.
Ms E: "Get your fat butt outta my face!"

As Kaylie advances to finger rolls, the mutters grow:
"My physiotherapist doesn't do it that way."
"She's far too young to know what she's doing."
"I'm choking."
"Is that a dragon or a snake on her neck?"
"What about tea and cookies? Like the yoga teacher does."
McElroy: "ARE WE DONE YET?!"

Kaylie's smile never falters. She is demonstrating bicep curls. Jeremy is slumped over his walker. Bella is edging her chair toward the door. Mildred is knitting. Wanda is crying. Trevor is lost in thought gazing out the window, perhaps watching the last bits of enthusiasm float away.

Upper Levels of Management haven't got it right yet. Just show these inert fossils a karaoke machine and watch them spring into action.

Another feckless day in the life ...  

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