Into the Whimsical Life of Gollum
There’s nothing like the gym. Dust bunnies, grubby fingerprints, and poop stains in the bathroom toilets. Cleaning. Loads of cleaning, and the finest way to describe working at Planet Fitness. And then, you have your colleagues. Dividing them into categories is a fair game to play when you’re on the clock. You have the one who babbles incessantly, the one who has daily mental breakdowns, and the one who takes work to the extreme. The last one pulls me to my intrigue. Her name is Wanda, but we call her “my precious.” Why? You might ask. Because she has a ring with transformative power? No. Because she has a broom with transformative power. Don’t get me wrong. She’s one of the hardest workers at the gym, but her cleaning style makes us wonder whether or not her alter ego is Gollum. She always says that she’s moving back to Florida, but I think global warming will dictate her next move. It’s way too nice in Ohio. Soon there will be palm trees, and she won’t be able to tell the difference. She loves the weather so much that we saw her skateboarding in the parking lot. She may be approaching 70, but that woman can dance on that board like it’s Fever Night. Tony Hawk, who?
Despite her activity and the way she flies across the lot like she’s in the Salem Witch Trials, she’s an impulsive cleaner, a 1990s Monica in 2024. Everyday she comes into work in a uniquely controversial fashion. I’m not talking about her timing. I’m talking about her clothing choices. The plum purple top, ripped black skirt with rainbow nylons and heels is her prime selection. Now I know she’s not homeless, but the other day a customer gave her change. I would’ve said something, but she shoved that fifty cents into her pocket before it was too late. I guess naivety can be a good thing.
Now the other day we were scheduled to work together. Everyday with “my precious” is fascinating, but this day, in particular, was the ultimate experience for the front-row seats on Survivor. She clocked in at promptly 9:00 am, grabbed her possession (the broom, just to be clear), and swept the floor. She was a scavenger, searching the floor for even the tinniest spectacle of dust.
Now just like every other gym, there are these ginormous bulky fans. Two, to be exact. Two red zone territories of grim and dirt, unexplored by any hunter except “my precious.” And just after sweeping the floor, the fans became her mating call. Right before my eyes, she grabbed one wing with a firm hand and cuddled against it like a sloth protecting her youngling from feisty predators. As the fan sped near 10mph, she reached her hand forward and dusted each wing to perfection. A few glances meant nothing to her, for she was a beast, a “swiper, no swiping.”
Tony Hawk? Dora the Explorer? This woman was a multifaceted icon.
Jokes aside, I applaud her for the quirks. I wish I was more like Wanda, adventuring the quirky side of life. I want to explore new territories and leap outside of my bubble. Cleaning could be an option, but I was thinking more about traveling the world, jumping off a 30-foot diving board, and swimming with piranhas in the Amazon. Is that a strange conclusion? Who knows? Maybe you’ll see me skateboarding in the Planet Fitness parking lot?
Just kidding. I already beat you to it. Thanks Wanda for letting me borrow your board.