While most of the world lined up for Sex and the City Part Two* and barbecues last night, I opted for what I thought I was going to be a decidedly more masochistic and less patriotic evening--a spinning class in a converted warehouse off Imokolee.
Uh, I thought wrong.
As it turns out every drag queen east of Ft. Lauderdale and north of Havana apparently opts for this particular spinning class in this particular converted warehouse off Imokolee every Friday night as well.
Now, some may argue that spinning is spinning. Oh but au contraire mon frere. True, all spinning classes hurt, but this is where the similarities between last night's class and all of the others I have ever taken end. Abruptly.
Exhibit One
When a spin instructor in other cities yells on a Friday night "Who has to work this weekend?" it is not surprising that very few people raise their hands. However, when a spin instructor in Naples asks a room full of drag queens "Who has to work on Monday?" oddly still no one raises his hand. Ditto for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and next Friday. Of course, I'm not fully convinced that this phenomenon is specific to drag queens in Naples, as it has been one of my curious observations that really no one in Naples seems to work.**
Exhibit Two
In other cities it would be unlikely for 29 out of the 30 participants to be related. However, last night I was the odd woman out as David, Samuel, Michael, Richard (there's always a Richard, isn't there?), Ferdinand, Enrique, David again, Christopher, Daniel et al share not a genetic lineage so to speak, but rather a lineage that can be traced back to Madonna or Her Highness, as they call her. Two of them grew up across the street from her in Michigan, one of them keeps an apartment next door to her in London, and the rest of them--so they told me--channel her on the dance floor or in the shower on a regular basis.
Exhibit Three
In other cities in which I have resided (seven and counting...),spinning is defined as cycling very, very fast on a bicycle that is--let's be honest--going nowhere. However, in Ricki's class, the definition of spinning is apparently open to interpretation--though it may be loosely translated to mean dancing or "freaking it out" while on bicycle that is--let's be honest--still going nowhere
Exhibit Four
The mirrors, I have found, in most spinning rooms are there for instructive purposes, that is, they are there to verify proper spinning posture and form. There remains no doubt in my mind that the the mirrors in last night's spinning room are also there for instructive purposes, that is, to verify each individual's hotness.
Exhibit Five
Spinning classes elsewhere provide an education on, well, spinning. However, Ricki's spinning class provides an education on Lady Gaga. I now know more about Lady Gaga than she does.
Think what you may--judge me if you like-- but I'm fairly certain that I have never had so much fun in my life.
*I should note that after class last night I headed to Sanibel Island to watch the sunset. In Naples, sunsets are events--the hottest tickets in town. And after witnessing the most gorgeous one I have ever seen, I can say unequivocally
that Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte had nothing on me last night.
**I'm currently in very good company.
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1 comment:
I must know more of this spin class of which you speak. Where? When? Can "fluffy" girls attend without the DQ's laughing in hysterics, falling off their bikes and hurting themselves or is this for the already fit?
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