My gym closed this week and I went on about the business of canceling that membership and searching for what they call a home club. One place was small and a ten minute walk away, but they closed at 6pm when I sometimes require 10pm exhaustion. The gym recommended by the company was both too far and too much like a human sweat factory. The third—and winner—was more comfortable in its layout and close enough to walk to. When I exited with my card in hand it was about 31 degrees Fahrenheit, which was an exciting prospect for walks home.

Anyway, I sat at a red light to think about this and encountered an amusing Wi-Fi signal name. It was locked, which you’ll agree is an awful tease.