Last Wednesday, it was Member Appreciation Day at my gym. They had colored balloons tied to most apparatus, off the chart discounts on tanning bed time (no thanks), and free coffee and bagels at a table near the front desk. You would think, being health conscious and all, they might not be pushing a “No carb left behind” policy, but I thought it was a pretty nice gesture.

And besides slashed prices on power bars, there were other ways the club demonstrated appreciation. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was helpful and respectful.

Maybe this shouldn’t be so surprising, but I have been dirty looked off equipment when personal trainers were making the circuit with their clients. I have waited in line for towels or other services until intra-staff gossip sessions were brought to a close. This was a new experience entirely.

I had just claimed a piece of equipment that builds strength in your torso and lower back. You sit on a kind of stool connected to weights and swivel it nearly ninety degrees from right to center for so many repetitions then do the same thing on the left side. Barely a few seconds after sitting down, I noticed a man in his twenties, totally buff, wearing a fitted red knit tee and black spandex pants. He was smiling at me. After holding back to see how I wanted to situate myself, he approached me. “Are you sure,” he asked, “You want to set the seat at level one? Maybe that would be too high for you.”

Looking at the notches where the seat was pegged, I recognized I normally did this exercise from a position one notch lower. “Thank you,” I said and he walked over to chat with another trainer.

A few moments later, he approached me again, equally conscious not to be intrusive.

“Do you use this piece of equipment often? It would really be a better work-out for you if, when you turned towards the center, you moved slower and not let the weights clang down. You should stop your rotation just before the weights touch. It’s harder on your abs, using this kind of control” he added, grinning. “But that would be the best way to work all your muscles.”

I blinked. Smiled. He approached me in a very respectful way and his instructions were the perfect mixture of clear and polite. I wasn’t his private client. I didn’t ask why he was offering a little coaching, but he saw I was curious.

His smile opened up and he announced, “It’s Member Appreciation Day.”

Damn, I thought, why don’t they do this all the time? Why don’t all people treat each other with respect and a sincere willingness to help? In a way, we’re all members of the same club.

Balloons could be optional, but treating everyone in our club of human beings as if every day was Member Appreciation Day would be no small thing.