$15

When I was in The Old City I thought that a few sessions in the swimming pool might help me keep a tenuous grip on my sanity.  I had some frustrations to release.  Little Westside Jonny chipped in by offering me some guest passes at his gym.

"Just give them my name," he said.  "I have a lot of free passes."

Free is good so one morning I get up and head to his club.  I drive right by another gym that charges $5 for a guest day pass.  Because this place was literally in the shadow of my parent's apartment I waved at it forlornly as I passed by.  I probably used $6 of gas to get my free %$!! guest pass.  

I leaned in at the reception desk when I arrived.

"LWSJ," I said quietly, in a conspiratorial tone.

"That'll be $15," the gatekeeper said, totally unimpressed by my name-dropping.

I was miffed.  I was ticked.  I started to say something that was going to include the adjective, the noun, and the adverb %$!! but thought better of it, kept my mouth shut, and forked over the cash.  I could see that if I continued to move restlessly forward in this peeved state of mind that the day was going to deteriorate quickly, the curse of LWSJ following me like an evil wind.

A few days later I called the gym next to my parent's place.  I figured I'd stay local.

"How much for a day pass?" I ask.

"That'll be $15," they said.

Yes, that was an amount I was familiar with.  I drive over and slap down my credit card, noting that the club prominently advertises a "lap pool" above its reception desk.

"I'm going to swim laps," I tell the attendant.  "So I want to make sure there's no exercise class or anything tying up the pool this morning."

"We don't have a pool," she replied.  I hesitated, wondering about pointing out the inaccuracy of their %$!! sign, grateful when the woman gave me directions to another club in their chain, ironically located about 10 miles away.

"I'd like a day pass so I can use your pool to swim laps," I wearily informed this attendant.

"That'll be $5," he said.  I began to suspect a giant Seaweed-centric mind-$#!! going down at this point.  People were following me with cameras and walkie-talkies, trying to fry my already damaged circuitry.

On my Last Day I noticed the key ring on the car that I was borrowing had a membership tag for this particular chain.  I handed it to the attendant, who scanned it, and cheerfully waved me in.

"That'll be $0," I said.