THE BALLER VERSION OF HELL

BREEDERS, ever wonder what the BALLER version of hell on Earth is?  Sing-a-long hour at the Tea Lounge? The Seventh Avenue Halloween parade?  No.  It is called YMCA Healthy Kids Day.  And holy shit is it frightening.

I dragged my ass out of bed to get in my Saturday AM workout at the Armory - you know, the one place where I can clear my head and pretend no one else exists - and walked through the door to this fucking rugrat jamboree.  I may have seen my dating life flash before my eyes, a chorus of animated diapers chanting, "Single girl, you are no longer welcome."

Listen, in ten years, I'll be totally down with kids.  And now, I'm pretty down with kids as long as I can give them back after a few hours.  Especially "healthy kids" or whatev.  But all of the neighborhood tots and their parents in one place, running around, screaming like it's the second coming of the apocalypse, staring each other down for their place on the inflatable line side--I give up.  Is this some sort of shock therapy to get me out of my apartment so the conspiracy theory "they" can turn it into a condo?

On a related note, if hell has jumping castles, my guaranteed final destination doesn't sound so bad.