The website True/Slant has a wellness writer, of sorts, named Kate Drummond, who writes scornfully about things like penis-enlarging pills and recently broke the news that PETA’s publicity stunts are “tacky.” Her most recent blog barrage is aimed at the place where she works out, the East Village gay bordello outpost of David Barton Gym. She’s angry because they occasionally have promotions with V2 vodka where they serve cocktails at the gym, which, to be fair, doesn’t sound like the best idea in the world of fitness.
But she describes it thusly:
A scantily-clad DJ is spinning tunes upstairs, handsome hot things are pouring vodka shots and dozens of (not that there’s anything wrong with that) gay men in fishnet tank tops are sweating profusely and drunkenly ogling one another’s rear ends.
Let’s talk about this quote. First of all, if you make it a personal rule to never work out if at some point in the day because you’ve already had a drink, we don’t want to be your friend. Probably you’re no fun and maybe even a little fat. Second, we don’t want to be your friend if you think it’s okay to excuse a disdainful comment about gays by saying “not that there’s anything wrong with that,” because actually what you’re saying is that there is something wrong with that.
Third, Intel boss lady Jessica Coen goes to that David Barton gym and reports back to us that not only is it a perfectly lovely place for a girl to work out, but that the place actually isn’t just filled with broad gay-sex stereotypes. “With it’s [sic] Studio-54 disco ball, candlelit weight-lifting areas and the smell of sex - rather than fetid sweat - permeating every corner of the elaborate, leather-and-velvet interior, this is not your usual workout spot,” Drummond writes, and she’s right — it’s not. But there’s no velvet and leather where the equipment is, and not to be gross, but if it smelled like pungent gay sex there, even gay people wouldn’t go. (It’s not the same as straight sex, dear.)
And finally, come on. While David Barton Gym is a perfectly fine gym for straight women, it’s not particularly designed to cater to them. That’s not to say they shouldn’t join — it’s got great facilities. But if you’re going to grumble about the disco ball and the D.J. and the vodka promotions (a “pseudo-fitness-drunk-sex-a-thon,” Drummond calls it), why on earth would you even join? Or even go try to write about it for your website? Everyone knows there is only one way to report on a place like David Barton Gym, and that is this way: