The gym is small. Really small. In fact, on a sliding scale from 'gym' to 'some guy's garage', it's decidedly closer to the latter. However, the man sitting behind the front desk is friendly, waving you and Vicky in with a wide smile and a booming voice.
"Vicky! Glad to see you again! Ah! You've brought a friend! Good! Welcome! Welcome to Jim's Gym. I'm Jim. This is my gym."
"Good to see you again, Jim," Vicky says and hands him a couple of dollars. "We're just going to use the sandbag for a bit."
"Sure thing. Take as much time as you need. And hey, have you thought any more about joining the wolf pack?"
You shoot Vicky a sharp look.
She doesn't even flinch. "Your workout club? No. Sorry. I think I'll pass."
"All right," Jim settles back into his chair, which isn't actually a chair but a stack of milk crates. "But just so you know, the offer is always open in case you change your mind. Eight PM Tuesdays and Thursdays. All fitness levels welcome. That goes to you too..." he turns to you and frowns. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."