"Nice of you to grace us with your presence." Cal's Aussie accent greets me from across the open space though his eyes don't seem to match the friendliness. I reply with an eye roll and half wave before leaning down to catch my breath and inhale the chalky, sweaty air.
"You know you missed me" I announce, looking up to take in my surroundings and decipher whether we have an audience today. Tall plywood walls encircle us, supporting colourful holds that jut out at various angles and depths, carefully constructed by my own hands and those of my partners, Cal and Pree. I love walking in to a full gym, climbers hanging at various levels in precarious positions, bracing for a leap of faith or starting their calculated ascent, knowing I planned that challenging route. Today, the place is only partially filled, but it's early still.
"I've been holding my breath."
The voice seems to emerge from the floor, until I spot its tall, lean owner. Priscilla's thick orange braid appears from under the front desk as she slams an armful of harnesses down in front a group of young men. Cal raises his brows at me and I shrug in response. We technically haven't paid off that equipment yet. If there is one thing Pree isn't, it's gentle. Her admirers at the desk take no notice though. They're new clients, as their designer gym clothes and puttied hair betray. I can only guess they're here for a laugh. If I'm honest with myself, their fit, hairless bodies and chiseled smooth faces are probably not unattractive. But they are covered in a yellowish skin that divulges its tanning bed origin. Their muscles are all wrong too, perfectly round and symmetrical; manufactured in a gym, with machines and repetition. Next to Cal's sun touched skin and toned physique, they're not even human. They might as well be amoebas; basic, malleable and completely indistinguishable from each other.
Lead Amoeba swipes the harnesses and doles them out without breaking eye contact with Pree, who returns his gaze with a friendly wink. They talk quietly, exchanging jokes about needing help getting into the harnesses. I know she's indulging them, but I find her flirting annoying. It never goes anywhere and someone always ends up heartbroken, rarely Priscilla.
Pree is pretty much solely responsible for my drinking habit. I can't count the number of drinks I've sat through with her cast-offs. Emotions poured to me while I poured scotch. I eventually realized she planned the break ups for when I was around, and then simply walked away, knowing I couldn't do the same. I know Pree better than she knows herself and I guess the men expect me to talk some sense into her and convince her she is in love, the way she convinced them of it. When they'd realized I don't hold that kind of power, we'd drink. I'd wake up with a hangover and she'd wake up single and we'd move on with life.
I slip off my worn runners in exchange for my worn burkenstocks and pass behind the counter with a habitual slap to Pree's ass. She reacts with a swift kick back at me, landing her target with a force much harder than mine. The thwacking sound of her barefoot against is my bum is worse than the pain but I wince anyway and scold her for not wearing shoes. The amoebas simultaneously turn their heads in our direction and I regret the exchange. Now I've caught their attention and I can tell it'll take work to lose it. Pree will be no help. I scan around for some sort of distracting work on the counter, and spot instead a half eaten burrito on the counter and realize i haven't eaten all day. God, I'm starving. Pree can always be counted on for disgusting, delicious food. Good enough, I think and turn away from our audience to stuff a giant bite into my mouth. I realize my error too late.
"How's your taco?" A jeering voice booms from the other side of the counter, resulting in a trained reaction of laughter from his peers.
I consider sharing it with his face, but offer a polite nod instead.
"So, you work here too?"
"I do," I retort, between bites, raising my eyebrows toward the employees only sign that marks the area where I stand.
