Bridget got me in to the Coral Casino yesterday. I can’t tell if it’s trying to be a gym or spa or pool or what. But I can say it accomplishes none of these well. The “weight room” was friggin’ laughable, which I would have laughed at had I not been so pissed mid-workout that they would even call it such. To mention just a few annoyances: the dumbbells stop at 75 lbs, there are no barbell weights, the machines are insane, half the space is for treadmills, at least one trainer has a pony tail (and he’s a dude) and everyone there at the time was super not inspiring. On the plus side, I was so bitter the staff treated me like family because I behaved exactly like a rich Montecito prick. It’s like they don’t know what to do if you ask. Responses were much better when I demanded beligerantly. And after 3 seconds with the “guy” at the front desk I was happy to oblige. There’s one more thing cool about the Coral, I guess – flat panel TVs in the locker room. Not to mention the locker rooms are marbled out. Rad. But oddly, I felt myself longing for the parade of old dudes strolling around with their junk all everywhere talking way loud about baseball and inane things. Next stop, the pool. The pool’s really nice. 50m. Actually, 50m plus one foot, I’m told. That way they never get asked to host a swim meet. What? Assholes? No! So, I cranked out some apnea 50’s with the long fins. I’m getting better at those. Something else I would not have expected from the Coral, a nugget index of 0. I’m not sold on the place.
