I go to the gym for classes three times a week, and mostly it's the same fifteen or twenty old ladies and a sprinkling of men with bad teeth. The women are all sizes and shapes, most of us a bit clumsy and arthritic, but jolly at the same time, thrilled to be among our peers and engaged in an activity both social and remedial. And then there is this one lady, Sandy. She's real short and dyes her hair a kind of reddish brown like a squirrel. She's the rowdy one in class, with a big laugh, a big belly and breasts, and not afraid to speak out an be the one who can't jump over the rope or do a plank for the required ten seconds. She's fun, we're all goodie two-shoes compared to her, always quiet and respectful to the instructor–but not Sandy, she's got spunk.

This day we're standing around next to our mats, keeping our eyes on the clock because we start right at nine a.m., and Sandy is catty-cornered to me, talking loudly to her pals and wiping sweat off her forehead.

"I'm so hot, I'm sweating like a pig."

The woman next to her pretends to shiver. "How can you be hot, it's freezing in here?"

"Lemme tell you what happened the other night, you know my husband is like you, he's always cold, and he's got the windows all shut and the woodstove is going crazy, so I say to him, for Christ's sake open a window why don't ya?"

"So, did he open a window?"

"Are you kidding? He says no way will I open a window, its twelve degrees outside, so I say, I'm dying here I'm so hot, please open a goddamn window. And he shakes his head, so I say okay, then I'm gonna take my clothes off, and that's exactly what I do, I get bare-ass naked and sit myself right down on the couch."

"Oh my god, what does he do?"

Sandy laughs, a barking clap of joy.

"He gives me a great big grin and sits down next to me."