Space Issues

At least once a week, Trixie, the queen of Zumba, and the SJG, discuss space issues at the gym.  Trixie goes to a crowded club full of sweaty men and aggressive women who would eat their young, if necessary.  I go to a nice hamish place for Zen-like gals who know how to conduct themselves.  Yesterday, Trixie called me up.  She sounded agitated.  Trixie:  "I was standing there, waiting for class to start, and this woman comes and stands in front of me."  SJG:  "That bitch! I hope you gave her a good smack." Trixie: "I said, 'excuse me, but you're kinda in my way.'"  SJG:  "You should've said, 'Who the eff do you think you are?" Trixie:  "I told her she was being rude." SJG:  "And then you kicked her in the shins?" Trixie:  "Then I moved to the other side of the room." SJG:  "You let her win."  Trixie:  "I asserted myself."  SJG:  "I would've handled it differently." Trixie:  "Which explains why your gym has a sign in the door that says, 'SJG:  Not welcome.'" SJG:  "Didn't I tell you?  They took it down.  I'm back in, baby." Trixie:  "For how long?"  SJG:  "We're taking it day by day."