I decided this morning that I should go to the gym. The gym that is full of the hip and trendy people. Clearly not a place I fit in, but no matter, I was going to brave the stares and condescending looks. As I gathered my gear and my unhip and definitely not trendy change of clothing I realised I no longer had a sports bag in Las Vegas. Whatever shall I do.

Option 1 was to use my little suitcase, but that would just make me look like an old man trying to sell sex toys to little boys.  Next best thing I could find in my spartan accommodations were Trader Joes bags (brown paper shopping bags). Naturally as I park at the gym there are 1000’s of people arriving as two classes were about to start so I hid in the car for a while until the chances of getting strange looks had died down. And there I was going through the doors of the gym with a Trader Joes bags in each hand. 

When I left I asked if I could terminate my membership. The guy looked at my bags and said, “Oh you lost your job, I’m sorry.”