|Not exactly Curley's on Tuesday morning|
The sessions are odd at best. The tables and chairs in Curley's bar are cleared, Curley cranks up his music machine and off we go. Delivery guys to the restaurant are surprised when they fling open the back door to see the bar taken over by middle-aged exercisers flailing their arms and legs akimbo. All the while, the chef staff goes about their business in the kitchen preparing for the day's restaurant trade.