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One of my favorite movies is Steve Martin’s L.A. Story. It contains several classic moments,
like when Steve gets into his car and drives to the house next door to visit his neighbor.
But one of the best scenes takes place at the trendy new restaurant, L’Idiot. This place is so
exclusive that even celebrities have to grovel to get in. In a cameo appearance, Chevy Chase shows
up at L’Idiot and the maitre d’ informs him he will be seated at his usual table.
“I was hoping I could get a good table this time,” says Chevy.
“I’m afraid not, monsieur.”
“Ah—the new cruelty?” says Chevy.
“I’m afraid so, monsieur.”
The joke, of course, is that people are paying preposterous prices to be abused at L’Idiot.
Only in L.A., right? Well, I see the same thing happen in the fitness business over and over again.
People get into relationships with trainers or coaches who don’t treat them properly, and instead
of firing them, these people figure it’s good for them; it’ll make them work harder and become
better...—or maybe they think they just don’t deserve any better. As the Russian
ballet dancers say, Bolshoi.
Another friend, a woman in her early 50s, belongs to a high-end club in Silicon Valley. Nothing at
this club is cheap; the monthly dues are almost as much as a month’s rent in a normal part of
the country. Okay, I’m exaggerating a bit, but you can imagine what one hour of personal
training costs. This friend’s trainer constantly scans the weight room to check out the younger,
more attractive female club members; meanwhile, he absentmindedly tells her to do another five
reps or another set. “He’s a good trainer,” my friend insists. “He’s just a
little young.”
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