Hey there. I'm Jim, the Gym Janitor.
I lead a quiet and simple life—so simple, in fact, it could be mistaken for a lifelong ritual.
Let me take you through a day in it.
4:00 a.m. – First alarm goes off. Ignored.
4:15 a.m. – Second alarm. Ignored.
4:30 a.m. – Third alarm. Also ignored.
4:45 a.m. – Fourth. I roll over.
5:00 a.m. – Fifth. No response.
6:00 a.m. – Final alarm.
6:17 a.m. – I finally wake up. That's good time, by my standards.
I live alone. Got engaged 20 years ago. That didn't pan out.
Now I work as a janitor on a military base. I heard she has kids now. Must be nice.
Before I start the day, I say a little prayer.
"Lord, I need a wife."
Then I take a thorough bath. Brush my teeth. Wash my hair with all the shampoos on my rack. Then I take a bath again.
8:49 a.m. – I'm dressed. Black overalls — straightened to impress. Hair styled — or at least, what's left of it. I'm mostly bald now, but anything to impress the ladies.
I lock up a double check for my Aulwris and start heading to base.
Yeah, I don't live on base. I do eat on base, though. It's not a long commute, I just like the walk. Increases my chances of finding her. Oh yeah — I also have an SUV. I hear women like a man who can provide, though I'm not using the car today. I read in a singles magazine yesterday that some bloke found the one on the bus while on his way to work.
9:22 a.m. – Finally at base.
I didn't find her on the bus. I hear new cadets are coming in today. I don't really care. I probably won't see many of them — or at least, I hope not.
I know the guard at the gate. We make small talk once in a while when I check in with my AulWris.
"Hey Jim, I can see you're still looking sharp as always," he says like clockwork. I know him but we don't talk much for there to be more to our talks.
"It's all thanks to your service — Gabe," I replied, reading his name tag again because I always forget his name.
I think he notices every time, but he just says nothing.
The base is pretty big, so it's always a hassle making it down to the gym. But I make the trip anyway.
A little-known secret on base: Jim the Gym Janitor basically gets paid to do nothing.
The gym under me has seen exactly zero new entries. Occasionally, some overly motivated bloke wanders in, does half a workout, and disappears forever.
The real gym — the one that actually sees use — is the personnel gym. But that one isn't my responsibility. Some other janitor handles it. Lucky him. Or maybe unlucky. He actually has to work.
Now, though, many things contribute to my ability to not work. There are three main factors that keep me in business.
Reason 1 – The location of the gym. It was more of a last-minute addition back when the base was still being shaped, so they just slam dunked it into the middle of nowhere. Where exactly? Just behind two towering supply warehouses. Yeah… I don't think anyone's stumbling upon it anytime soon.
Reason 2 – Distance. The base is huge. It takes exactly 17 minutes and 50 seconds to get to the gym from the cadet dorms, and around 9 minutes and 32 seconds from the officers' quarters. Yes, I did time it. After the kind of day those kids have, I doubt they'll be eager to make the trip just to lift some weights.
Reason 3 – It doesn't show up on the base map. This is, without a doubt, the luckiest thing to ever happen to me. In my twenty years as a gym janitor, no one's ever thought to update the base layout. So the gym shows up as one of the supply warehouses. Not a gym. What a beautiful, blessed oversight.
And thanks to these three little miracles, I clock in to do absolutely nothing. I walk around like I've got a purpose, eat three square meals courtesy of the military—not the slop the cadets get, but the good stuff meant for personnel—and at the end of every month, I get paid five hundred Cenera (C) for essentially existing.
9:27 a.m. – I stop by the reception office to get my keycard. It gives me access to every door I've got clearance for, which is just enough to feel important. Then, I begin my noble march to the gym.
9:53 a.m. – I finally arrive. I slide my keycard across the reader—three beeps, and the door unlocks. Time to do... nothing. But first, I walk around turning on all the lights. Gotta make the place look alive. Then I head to my trusty office, where my beloved reclining chair waits like an old friend. I sit, turn on the TV, watch it for a bit—and fall asleep. I've never really been a TV guy. Always put me to sleep.
10:50 a.m. – An alarm goes off. One I never miss. It's breakfast time.
Today's something new from the northern region of the empire—white rice and some kind of monster meat from up there. Great Markin-Karn or something like that. Not really my business what it's called—I don't catch it, kill it, or cook it. I just eat it. I do know it's a flying creature, though, and I've heard the wings have the best texture... though that part usually goes to the higher-ups.
11:03 a.m. – I'm at the personnel mess hall. It's located somewhere around the middle of the base, right where the male and female barracks meet. They're separated by a wall with a few gates here and there that only authorized personnel can use.
As I partake in the feast, a few of my co-workers come by and we talk a bit about preparations for the new batch of cadets—who's coming, which notable families have kids in this round, and so on. I don't contribute much to the conversation until the younger female personnel from the women's side finally come over.
I read in a magazine once that putting yourself out there helps.
12:14 p.m. – I'm back at the Gym for a much-needed break (sleep). Talking for that long drains me. I heard the new cadets will be coming in by five today—an hour before dinner.
2:00 p.m. – I wake up from my nap. Another alarm. It's time for lunch. Today's menu is seafood from the Eastern Empire—that's where I'm from. I read on a magazine that the East is where love resides. I should probably visit home. It's been a while—last time must have been when I was still engaged.
Anyway, lunch is wheat rolls served with a special type of fish found only in the East: the Red-Finned Salmon. These beauties grow as large as eight feet and weigh up to 700 pounds. The biggest catch ever recorded came from my village—a very distant relative of mine. That monster was fifteen feet long and weighed in at 2,678 pounds.
It's said that at some point during the nearly hour-long catch, the relative actually started negotiating with the damned fish. But in the end, it paid off. That branch of the family sold it for a generational sum—over two million Cenera. That's almost four generations of income, considering the monthly minimum wage is just four hundred and fifty Cenera.
I think that branch of the family drained the whole clan's luck reserves, because I've been unable to get a wife ever since. This was twenty years ago, by the way.
2:13 p.m. – I'm finally back at the mess hall. This time, I wait for the female personnel to come in before I get my tray.
2:20 p.m. – Finally, they're here. I join them in line with my tray, dishing out my meal in the traditional way. It catches the attention of some of the ladies, who strike up a conversation with me.
3:40 p.m. – I have some good chats with the ladies, and by the time I get back to the gym, I'm exhausted—so I sleep again
4:33 p.m. – Beeping from my AulWris wakes me up. It's an announcement saying the cadets will be reaching the base soon. Not really my concern, but since I'm awake, I walk around for a bit and log into my account on Singles Social to see if I got any new swipes today. The catfishers have gotten even worse on that platform. I think I'll switch to Twingler—it's been making waves lately.
5:47 p.m. – The cadets have been around for a while now, still not my business. But I've decided to make the switch to Twingler. Turns out, it's not even as expensive—just one Cenera and thirty nine Kera a month, compared to the three Cenera and thirty nine Kera I pay for Singles Social. I'm in the middle of writing my profile description when I hear it.
A jingle–