He did a double-take, consciously bringing his eyes around to the sign that his subconscious, peeking around the side of his vision while he was otherwise occupied, had read with enough alarm to make him take notice. But again his inner self had proved to be a very attentive, yet unreliable observer — when it (he?) metaphorically stiffened its theoretical back and wordlessly exclaimed, “hey, that sign says ‘Get Fit, Chicago!’” he had to see it for himself. However, it simply said “Get Fit Together”, which was a much more tolerable proclamation. 

Had his subconscious been correct, he would’ve joined it in its mild irritation.

That form of bluster rarely seemed appropriate — “hey, do this RIGHT NOW, Citywe’rein!” — especially as now, when the command was issued from the front window of a storefront gymlet, down a side street of a side street, hardly able to make its demands known by people a hundred yards away, let alone the entire population of a major metropolitan city. As it was, however, the experience just left him amused at what effect reading a good book will have on the way he thinks.