I work down the street from the Yale Club of New York, and have been exercising my alumni-ship by working out there several mornings a week. While the equipment is sparse and a bit rusty, they have a decent collection of bars, plates and benches, which is pretty much all I need. The real downside, however, is the locker room. While brief stints of nudity are the locker room norm, the Yale Club is truly in a league of its own. Never before have I seen crowds of old fat guys lounging around on couches completely naked, watching CNBC or reading the Wall St. Journal. They prance around, letting it all hang out, seemingly without a care in the world. While I’m thrilled they’re enjoying themselves, that much pasty, jiggly flesh early in the morning just isn’t a good way to start the day.