Right Time Wrong Place

I could have sworn the online version of that Jazzercise Lo class indicated sessions were on Wednesdays. However, when I showed up at the senior center to spy on the class, to see if I was up to the challenge, I looked through the window and saw tap dancing in session.

Checking with the receptionist, I learned jazzercise is on Tuesdays.

Tuesdays are already booked with Trainer so, checking into the multitude of other classes offered, I saw the only other thing available during the days I’m looking to fill, at a time not too early or too late for my taste, was Thai Chi.

I have no interest in Thai Chi ─ too slow. I’d fall asleep standing up, so I took a look at the listings being offered by the senior center closer in, the center some of the residents frequent.

In fact, this is the center that group of ladies led by Greedy Grabby attended. That is, until they were caught taking coffee from the storage area and got themselves banned.

At any rate, I saw Zumba Gold was being offered on Fridays, at a reasonable hour, so off I went to give it a go this morning.

Even though the drive was short, it led me into a somewhat dark, gloomy, desolate looking part of town.

That was the first sign to turn back.

The second sign was when the GPS said I had arrived, but the signage indicated State Hospital ... not just A hospital but A forensic hospital, a hospital known to be for the criminally insane.

Again, a point where the universe was indicating make a U-turn, head back but, seeing a tiny little building with letters that said "senior center", I pulled into the parking lot.

From the vantage point of the parking lot, I could see the tiny little senior center was in the corner of an area alongside a building labeled Department of Corrections and a huge facility, which is the state hospital.

What were they thinking ... the folks that put the center in that location?

It was depressing to see. Everything looked old, scary, like the kind of buildings one sees in AMC’s The Walking Dead.

Not only did I still not turn around, I parked, got out of the car, took photos.

I began thinking that if someone from the Department of Corrections or the State Hospital saw me taking photos, I might be shot for their thinking I was planning to escape someone AND, after taking photos and not getting shot, I entered the building marked senior center.

It was crowded inside, and even more depressing than the outside.

Crowded only because the room where the old folks congregated was so tiny.

The place was night and day insofar as the senior center I’d gone to on Wednesday.

That first center had tons of rooms, different activities in each, a gift shop, computer room, even a coffee shop/cafeteria, grass, flowers, trees, a picnic area outside, and the people coming and going appeared to be well-kept looking seniors.

Everything in this second center went along with the old, scary, Walking Dead theme. It was tiny inside, only the one community room with rows of bench like tables, old people in wooden chairs crammed at each table, no room to move, no room to breathe. There was only one exercise room ─ no window to peek inside, just an old wooden door that looked straight outta the Walking Dead and should have been labeled “Don't Enter, Dead Inside”. The people in this center were ancient looking, and the place had that old house smell of mold and mildew.

In speaking with the woman leading the Zumba class, due to begin 15 minutes after I arrived, even though she indicated she was trained, even looking forward to attending an upcoming Zumba convention in Florida, I just couldn’t picture her as the instructor because her physic was the opposite of what one would imagine.

Did I turn around then?

No. I signed up for the class.

However, before the now 10-minute wait was up, what I was seeing became so depressing, the smell so overpowering, that I got a headache, went outside for fresh air, decided I couldn’t handle the place, the area, those seniors, got in the car and finally headed home.

Wasn’t the place for me.

I’m not that kinda old.