On Wednesday at the Y
a man was walking on the track
when suddenly he stopped,
sat down, and slumped over.
He was taken away on a stretcher.
On Thursday a man stayed in the sauna
so long he couldn't get up.
As one of the passersby put it,
He cooked hisself like a rotisserie chicken.
He, too, was taken away on a stretcher.
Good thing the Y shares the parking lot
with the hospital, a woman said.
They even have a helicopter pad
in case you need to be life-flighted to Cleveland.
Yep, another woman piped up.
We could use a funeral parlor on the other side.
You heard about the man who was sitting
in the chair in the workout room?
He was there a few hours
before anyone realized he was dead.
3 comments:
The percentage of workout machine users who must be stretchered off must be high indeed. I guess that's why God invented the waiver.
A few weeks ago it came to pass that as I timidly entered the vast factory like workout machine area at the university, in pursuit of recommended "therapy", a young Chinese male on one of the treadmills pitched face first onto the rolling rubber, and died right there and then.
But not of course without a certain ado, to put it mildly.
Shortly after the syringes and bandage wraps and drips had been cleared away, I attempted two minutes on the prescribed machine, and dislocated my right hip.
It's definitely a season of great good cheer in workout areas all across the homeland.
What do you suppose is going on at the Rocky River Y? Sandbags and cots?
Thought of you when I viewed these Rocky River ice jam photos.
Toward the later stages of my ambulatory period, now thankfully but a blur, I belonged to the downtown Y for a while, and it was -- well, there was the night the bleeding guy staggered up to the desk and quietly reported he'd been stabbed, could he make a phone call -- and so on... some months after I'd stopped braving the nocturnal trip. I ran into a guy who updated me on recent events.
"Well, last week one night at closing time they found somebody hanging from a hook in the john... you know, pretty much business as usual."
At my local Y pool the women in the locker room always talked about being afraid they'd be murdered if they were there alone. I was very saddened to hear this level of fear going on.
PS Love this poem
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