The New Job

 

The New Job
By
Gym Dude

I’ve always been a believer that Life Is Good!  Growing up, I worked hard in school and at sports.  I was never the best student but I was OK.  I wrestled in high school but didn’t win a lot.  At state college I made the football team but mostly played ‘bench’.

I was lucky to get a decent job right out of school and learned enough to start my own business.  It was hard work but eventually I started earning a fairly decent living.  My company required a lot of time and attention so outdoor activities, sports, the gym all began to fall by the wayside.  I have to admit that my weight began to climb, finally hitting around 190 which is a bit much on a 5’10 frame.  It’s embarrassing that my 36” belt is getting too tight.  I can’t even bear to look at that lean 167 pound frame in my high school yearbook wrestling picture.  I could even see decent abs then, but I guess that’s what happens when you see a birthday cake with 37 candles on it.  It’s shocking.

Still, life was pretty good until the economy hit a slowdown and a major corporation moved in and grabbed most of my customers.  It didn’t take long before all my hard work was for nothing.  I looked around but the only opening left for me was a sales position at the very company that put me out of business.  Let me tell you, walking in that door was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

The interview went well and I was able to show off my experience and ability.  I think I made a good impression until the HR man wondered if I would be able to keep up with a fast-paced industry.  I know they can’t say anything about age but this was getting pretty damn close.  “Listen, I’ve got almost 15 years in this business and I haven’t slowed down yet.  If you’ve got the job, I’m the man to do it!”  My self-assurance seemed to win the day and we started filling out forms.

The HR man called in a young guy named Mark to show me around.  Mark was about my height and a LOT leaner.  His short-sleeved shirt looked tailored to emphasize his v-shaped body and reasonably solid arms.  Mark wasn’t a big man, but I could tell he was in good shape and energetic as hell.  On the way to my desk he started filling me in.

You’ll be working for Tony.  He’s a great guy and really on the way up.  Mark patted me on my gut and smiled saying “Don’t worry.  We’ve got a GREAT gym downstairs.  You’ll get rid of that in no time.  They like to have their people in shape, it helps keep up the energy and reduces time off for illness and such.  Just wait until you meet Tony.  Man, he’s a great inspiration in the office but especially in the gym.  Mark flexed his right arm and gripped across his ample biceps with a smile.  “You’ll see what I mean.”

We turned a corner to a long line of cubicles.  “This is your desk.  Make yourself at home. Let any of us know if you need anything.”   I turned around and it looked like miles of little boxes.  I was afraid of this, but it’s a job.  Mark disappeared and I sat down waiting for my first assignment.  I read the company handbook, (twice) and paid particular attention to the section on fitness.  Just as Mark said, it’s a big issue.  I can tell from the pictures of the gym at they take great pride in it.  The photos show just about every exercise option a person could think of.  Well, this might not be so bad after all.

I couldn’t help but notice that everyone passing my cubicle was a great deal younger than me and a quick examination in the lunchroom confirmed it.  While there are a few ‘older’ people, there are not many and it looks like just about everyone here uses the gym downstairs.  I seem to be the only one with a gut.  I don’t need to be told that I’m going to have to take care of that as soon as possible.

Two o’clock and finally something is happening.  Here I am in a large conference room at my first sales meeting.  At long last I see my boss.  Tony makes his entrance and he’s bubbling with energy, if you’ve ever seen Tony Little on TV you get the idea. At his appearance, the guys respond with a cheer not unlike our old football team. 

The first thing I notice is this guy’s build!  Tony is wearing gray slacks and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt and tie but there is no hiding the body underneath.  His shirt is not snug but this guy’s lats and pecs almost jump out at you.  Obvious broad shoulders and narrow waist, his thick neck lets me know he must have spent a lot of time on the mats.  As Tony reaches for a pointer and starts addressing some charts, you can’t help but notice the large peak of biceps under his shirt.  It is only then that I notice his age.  I don’t think this guy can be over 22 or 23.  Talk about fast-track!  I think Mark hit the nail on the head in every way.  This job may be better than I hoped.

Tony outlines his incentive plan and it is clear that the guy appreciates competition.  Everything is based on team against team and developing your personal best.  Stretch goals are a major feature.  This is not a place to sit back and wait for business!

I spend the rest of the day working on my goals and learning the system and five o’clock rolls around before I know it.  At most places that means quitting time but I head down to check out the gym.  Boy, the manual didn’t do this place justice.  One side has Nautilus and Life Cycle machines, if they missed anything I don’t know what it could be.  The other side is set up with free weights, Hammer machines and every bench you could ask for.  There is a hallway on the far side leading to locker rooms and a lap pool. Damn!  I like this.

I mount an exercise bike and strike up a conversation with another guy who looks about my age.  Marvin seems to welcome the company of someone at least older than one of his kids and we talk about how the company puts great stock in their fitness program.  He comments that they have paid a lot of money for the gym (obviously) and like to see it used.  Tony walks in and the energy level seems to jump 100%.  After a quick warm up he takes his place on the bench press having loaded a 45 pound plate on each side.  His tank top does little to hide the man’s impressive build.  “Damn!” I comment to Marvin without taking my eyes off the young hunk, “Tony looks like one strong stud.”  The man simply replied “You have no idea.  I’ll tell you one thing, if you’re going to keep up with those guys you’re NOT going to do it sitting over here with me.”  I chuckled “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

I continue watching as the muscular young man warms up with a few sets at 135 while executing perfect form.  Mark and another lifting buddy quickly lock on another 45 to each side and Tony easily knocks out a couple of sets at 225.  The big guy’s arm and chest muscles are beginning to show the pump as he stretches while they add another pair of 45’s.  Slowly with concentration and purpose Tony grinds out two more sets at 315 and I can see the early signs of effort as he wipes beads of sweat from his forehead.  With a nod of his head, Tony’s buddies add another pair.  HOLY CRAP, I think to myself, that’s about 400 pounds.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man lift that weight, in person!

With his spotters in place, Tony un-racks the barbell and I watch in amazement as the man executes his lift with the same precision used in his warm-up.  The bar travels down until it gently touches Tony’s massive chest then miraculously reverses direction as he powers the weight back up.  I count ten full reps before the stud racks the weights.  I swear I can see the bar actually bending back and forth as the massive plates rest on the rack.  Tony is up and his well-built buddies gather around in amazement.  DAMN.  Pretty freaking impressive!

By day number two I am much better prepared and have sufficiently stocked my gym locker.  I get a better look at the place and am even more impressed by the layout.  In addition to all the gear I even find a section with speed bags and heavy bags.  Down the hallway is a door marked Racquetball but the door is locked.  You must need reservations but not being a racquetball player it is no big deal to me.

It is no surprise to me that the younger guys workout the hardest, hitting the weights with many pushing some very respectable numbers.  I make up my mind to work on the machines until I can hit the free weights without embarrassing himself too much.  After the first few workouts I find I can barely move.  I have muscles aching in places I didn’t even know I had places and come to the conclusion that it may be some time before I visit the “heavy” side of the room.

I start off working out on Tuesdays and Thursdays but after about a month I decide I need more challenge and kick it up to three days:  Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  It takes a few weeks before one Friday I notice a few guys using the racquetball court.  Two guys go in and spend about 30 minutes to an hour then hit the showers with one or both of them looking like they were rode hard and put away wet.  Racquetball is looking like a good way to work up a sweat and maybe help knock off some of these extra pounds.  Maybe I can line up someone to give me pointers?

Tony is the guy most often on the court.  He is also obviously one of their ‘golden boys’. Tall, good-looking and in great shape, the kid makes a striking impression.  He pumps iron daily and while he has his own group of lifters around all the time, he takes pride in wearing them all out trying to keep up with him.  Tony is already a Regional Vice President of Sales and from the looks of it he takes control on the racquetball court as well.  I’m thinking Tony would be a good man to have in my corner.

One afternoon, I strike up a conversation about weight lifting with one of Tony’s buddies.   While not built like Tony, Ryan is in remarkable condition.  Standing about 6’1” and weighing in about 200 Ryan is one of those freckle-faced red-heads although one look at his muscular build and I imagine not many people kid him about it.  I tell Ryan that I’d like to get in good enough shape to workout on the free weights and maybe one day join the ‘pack’.  The guy looks me up and down and snickers then catches himself.  “Sorry man, it’s just that it looks like that time has passed you by.  You may be better off staying over there with the older guys.” Ryan chuckles again and pats my gut, “No offense”.

“Offense taken” I reply with my dry sense of humor.  I’ve been working out pretty consistently and it is starting to show, or at least I thought it was, apparently not enough.  I have one more thought about speeding up the process.  “Well, how about the racquetball court?  You guys seem to be the only ones using it and it looks to me like you get a great workout.  Maybe one of you could teach me the game?”

“You want to learn the game?” a deep voice comes from behind me as I feel a solid grip on my shoulder, it was Tony.  Big, strong, handsome and confident Tony.  “I’d be happy to show you the ropes Old Dude, but you might want to give it another thought.  I don’t know if someone in your condition could hold up to the competition.  You might have noticed that the guys who use the court are in pretty good shape.  I mean, we haven’t had to call an ambulance yet, I’d hate to start now.”  Everybody gets in a good chuckle. 

“Come on guys” I plead like a kid on the school yard, “How is a guy going to get in shape if he never gets a chance?”   Ryan seems to come to my defense, “It sounds to me like the guy seriously wants to workout on the court.  I think you ought to reconsider and give the guy a break.”  Many of the ‘pack’ seem to change their tune and support the ‘old timer’.  I look back at the well-built kid behind me, “Come on, Tony.  What could it hurt?” I ask.

Tony gives me a once-over as he considers his options.  “For one, it could hurt you.  But if that’s what you want I am more than happy to put you through your paces.  I’ll be here Friday after work.  If you still want to do this, be here at 5:30 and be ready.”  Tony gives me a solid slap on the back and heads over to the squat rack.  I look for an exercise machine with a good view of the squat rack.  It is inspirational to watch anytime Tony is lifting but I never miss when he’s working squats.  As his boys start packing on the poundage Tony’s muscular body takes on the look of a well-oiled machine.  The powerful young stud works his way up to a quarter of a ton and sometimes more.  I couldn’t be more amazed.  THAT’S WHAT I WANT! I scream in my head.

I feel good knowing I am finally making some headway.  A good impression Friday could be my first step into being accepted by the “fast-track pack”.  It certainly can’t hurt to have a VP on my side.

For the remainder of the week I find the ‘in crowd” unusually friendly.  A smile or a wave greets me in the halls or when someone passes my desk.  Just maybe I have a chance to work my way up in this company!

At long last Friday rolls around, I can hardly wait.  I hit the gym in eager anticipation just hoping that Tony will take it easy on me.  As promised, the big guy makes his appearance at 5:30 sharp and heads straight for me.  “Alright, Stud.” He says with his big arm across my shoulder.   “Let’s go see what that old body is made of!” and we head off for the hallway.  Tony turns his key in the lock of the door marked “Racquetball Court”, pulls open the door and literally pushes me inside the darkened space.  He hits the lights and pulls the door shut behind us.  Before me is a former racquetball court with pads on all four walls and a wrestling mat in the center.  “What’s this?” I wonder aloud.

“Welcome to our training room.  This is where we separate the men from the boys.  As you can see it used to be a racquetball court but most of us didn’t play and I had a better idea for the space.  It didn’t take a lot of persuasion for the few guys that did play to change their minds.”  Tony says with a proud smile. 

“But all this time …..” my voice trails off and Tony laughs, “All this time you didn’t noticed that no one ever took a racquet when we went in here?”  Come to think of it, the thought never occurred to me but this explains a lot.

In one smooth, easy motion Tony sheds his muscle shirt while he steps on the mat, his fingertips making the obvious signal for me to join him.

“I’m not too sure about this” I begin to stammer still surprised by this new development.

“Listen, Dude” His smile fades as he stretches and flexes his thick muscles.  Tony is letting me know who is in charge.  “You want to work your way up in this company and we want the strongest men at the top.  If you want to be in control you had better be prepared to prove it to me.  After all, you DID ask for it.  Now step up here and show me what you’re made of.”

For the first time I begin to really assess my opponent.   Without a shirt and ‘fight ready’ Tony makes one hell of an impression.  The kid is only about 22, a little over 6’1” and I guess somewhere around 210 pounds or better.  I see no visible body fat and his muscular development shows that he has spent a lot of time in the gym.  The kid has solid legs, a narrow waist with classic washboard abs tapering up to a solid chest with strong looking pecs.  His shoulders are wide and capped off with large, ripped deltoids showing off guns that I guess measure 18” or more.  His Italian good looks are accentuated by a dark tan, short black hair buzz cut on the sides and eyes so dark they look black.

“The door is locked and we don’t leave until I’m ready.  That is, unless you’re man enough to take the key away from me.  You got nowhere to run, Old Man.  Don’t make me come after you!”  Tony’s muscular physique looks primed and ready for action.  His once friendly smile suddenly looks threatening and sinister.  My mind flashes back to the image of those guys leaving this place and how they looked totally wasted.

It’s been nearly 15 years since I actually fought someone and almost 20 years since I’ve been on a wrestling mat.  All of a sudden I became sorry for all those days I missed at the gym.  Tony’s powerful body is not going to wait much longer.  As the big hunk steps forward I begin to crouch and claim my space on the mat.  It’s been a long time and I wasn’t known as a great wrestler at my best. 

“Rules?” I ask.

“Nope”, he smiles.

Tony moves in a flash gripping my legs and smashing my back to the mat proving beyond any doubt that this man is not just strong and fast but a much better wrestler than I was at my best and that was a long time ago.  Rather than securing a hold which I’m sure he could have done just as easily, the big stud reaches down for my hand and helps me to my feet then steps back and again prepares for combat.

“Come on, Old Man.  Don’t make this so easy for me.  It’s one thing to be old, weak and out of shape but shit, you still have to have SOME fight left in you.  Show me what you got inside and IF I think it’s enough I’ll let you hang around with the rest of the old fogies.  That or you can retire right now and leave everything to the REAL men.”

 Tony is pissing me off!  He stands confidently on the mat thinking that he’s indestructible like some kind of Superman!  I’ll admit he looks the part.  Before I can spend too much time on that idea the kid is on me again easily sweeping my legs and dropping my back to the mat again.  Once more the muscular stud stands and reaches for my hand.  I relax a little as Tony pulls me to my feet but before I know what’s happening I find myself upside down flying through the air and smashing solidly to the mat again.  Damn!  I hurt!

I try to roll away and gain my footing but Tony has already wrapped his right arm around mine and presses his knee against my back anchoring me to the mat while he wrenches back on my arm.  SHIT! It feels like he is about to rip my shoulder apart!

“AARRGHH” is about all I can get out before he starts laughing and giving me more shit about being weak and old.  “I don’t know why they keep putting old codgers like you on my team.  Somebody at HR ought to figure out by now that you guys NEVER make it on the Fast-Track.  They always quit in the first month, just like you will.  NO energy!  No muscle!  And worst of all, NO BALLS!  What a freaking waste of my time!” 

I want to get up and punch this arrogant young ass-hole but Tony has proven beyond any doubt that he is far too strong, too fast and too good of a fighter for me to have even a tiny chance against him.  With my right arm useless and nearly destroyed the powerful kid releases me and stands again only to drop his knee in my back again powering me face down on the mat.  I struggle to my hands and knees only to take an agonizing kick to the stomach with so much force Tony literally flips me over on my back.  A position I have come to know only too well.

Without resistance to speak of, powerful Tony grips my left leg and easily wrestles me face down on the mat as he wrenches back leaving me pounding the mat in pain.

“AAARGGHHH!  Damn!   Enough!  My back!  I give!  I give!”  I am done for.  The kid was right all along.  I’m unable to defend myself against his amazing speed and strength.  Tony has no trouble man-handling me any way he sees fit and I haven’t been able to even slow him down!  I’m not even a warm-up for this muscular young stud.

Tony throws down my injured leg with disgust, grips my head in his powerful hands pulling me to my feet only to fall back kicking both feet in my gut not just knocking the wind from me but flipping me over his head before my helpless body smashes yet again to the mat.  I know there is padding in there but this thing is getting harder and harder.   Tony shows no sign of letting up.  I have to find some way to put up a fight.  I slowly make it to my knees more out of instinct than strategy.  Tony is right behind me quickly securing his grip behind my neck yanking me painfully up to my feet.  Powerful hands press solidly behind my neck forcing my head towards my chest while my shoulders are forced back.  I flex as hard as I can but I am unable to even slow down the progress of the kid’s powerful grip.

I become aware of Tony’s solid flexing muscles pressing against my back with the feel of a brick wall!  Each powerful flex of Tony’s rock solid arms forces my body into greater agony.  I am done for!  There is no escape!

“AAARRRGGH!” I finally scream.  “OH!  Damn!  You got me!  I give!  I give!  I GIVE!!!”  It is over.  I am beaten, as though I ever had a chance against this young stud.  My guess is that Tony has whipped every man in our department, why should I be any different?

“Sorry, Charlie.  It don’t work like that.”  Tony’s voice is clear and strong.  Not like someone who has just been in battle but then this wasn’t much of a battle for him.  “This fight is over when I SAY it is and not before that!  You’ll never make it in this company.  This team is MINE and my players are strong, fast and tough.  I don’t need old farts like you slowing us down.  You’re HISTORY, Old Man.  This little demonstration is over as soon as you recognize the fact and give me your resignation.”

OH SHIT!  Damn it!  I need this job!  Leaving this place now will really screw up my resume’ and DAMN, Tony is the man they will call for a reference.  I CAN”T QUIT!

Tony’s big muscles flex again and it feels like he is about to tear my shoulders off my body!  “AAARRGHHH!  NO!  God NO!” I start to plead with the young stud, “I need this job.  Come on, Man.  I can’t quit, this is my last chance.  Let me train with you guys.  I can do it.  Give me a chance, MAN!”

The massive stud is hearing none of it, “I’ve heard you wimps cry and plead before.  Your tears mean NOTHING to me.  I’m on my way to the top and my team is going to take me there.  I don’t need weak old farts holding me back.  Guarantee me your resignation Monday morning and the pain stops.  Otherwise …………”  Tony’s powerful arms flex again and I swear my neck will snap any minute but deep down inside I know I can’t wimp out, I CAN’T!

Tony chuckles in my ear “Have it your way, Old Man.  I’m going to enjoy this.”  The muscular young stud presses down again and begins to force my crumbling body back and forth.  I know my shoulders won’t last much longer.

I try desperately to gain my footing as I flop around and find one leg behind that of the buff athlete working me over.  My other leg is forward as I gain a footing and press back with what little strength I have left.  I catch the kid by surprise throwing him off balance as the two of us crash to the mat with the kid’s fearsome grip still unbroken.

Tony only laughs at my desperation “I sure as hell hope you don’t think that’s going to help, I’m even BETTER at ground fighting!  Give it up, Dude or I’ll crush you until your bones snap!” 

I have no doubt he can do it!  I struggle helplessly against the stud’s power as he pulls me higher into his agonizing grip.  I flop around like a fish out of water then I feel his right leg begin to grapevine mine.  I try desperately to avoid it but Tony is just too strong and in a moment his leg is locked around mine.  Thick muscles that feel like hardened steel begin to flex and even though I fight with all my power I feel my leg slowly begin to bend in directions it was never intended to go.  Outrageous pain erupts from my knee as the muscular kid starts to laugh.  “You’re finished, Old Man.  Admit it.  On your best day you were never competition for me.  One flex and I can shatter your leg.  Shit, Man.  It will take ‘em months to put that thing back together.  Give it up!  Don’t make me break you apart.  Trust me, I’ve broken a lot bigger guys than you and it’s NOT pretty.”

Tony’s left leg is working to capture mine.  As much as my right leg hurts I still can’t bring myself to give up.  Still suffering in his agonizing full-nelson my left leg is all I have left.  He is holding me high and tight, his powerful chest pressing against my back and my ass pressing against abdominals that feel like a cobblestone road.  In any other circumstance I could really admire a build like his.  As I press my left foot against the mat in a vain attempt to bridge, it hits me.

My body drops back against a wall of solid muscle.  I stretch out my left leg and send it crashing back home between the tough stud’s legs.  “AAAAACCCCHHHHH” Tony’s scream lets me know that finally something I did is working.  The pain in my shoulders and right leg escalates sharply but with two more kicks the killer hold begins to loosen just a bit.

I bridge and twist but fail to break free.  Another kick and a powerful flex and my right leg is free!

Tony painfully moans beneath me as he struggles to speak, “You …. Bastard!  I’m …. gonna …. tear …. you ….. apart.  ARRRGGH!”  One more kick and a powerful flex and I am free of Tony’s vicious full-nelson.  The big kid had his fun working me over and I have no plans of letting him have another go at it.  Before wiggling off of his rock solid physique I drill a number of elbow smashes to his massive chest.  I’m sure nothing is breaking but I’m leaving some major bruises to remember me by.  I spin off to one knee to work my way up then leap forward driving a knee to the young stud’s gut.  I get a faint grunt but not much more so my next drop is a great deal lower.

“YIP!” is all the kid can get out letting me know I have made a lasting impression.  Gaining my footing and second wind Tony lays before me holding his nuts with both hands, tears streaming down his face.  The muscular stud is hurt pretty bad.  As I lift his legs, my arms lock behind his calves and I realize just how well developed this kid is.  His leg muscles are like iron, but now is no time to stand around admiring his build.  I catch the look on his face and I see stark terror at what I might do next, and he’s right.  I drop a knee between those twin oaks of power and muscleboy’s jaw drops with little more than a faint whimper emanating from the once threatening muscle machine.

Still gripping his powerful legs, Tony offers no resistance as I wrestle his studly physique over and lean back executing a Boston Crab.  This kid’s back is just as strong and finely crafted as the rest of his impressive body but unfortunately for the Tough Guy, there is no steam left in the boiler and Tony caves quickly.  “AAAARRGGHH!   NO!  NOOOOO!  Please!  I give.  I give!   I GIVE!!!!”

Tony is left pounding the mat with what little power he has left and now it is my turn, “Sorry, Charlie.  It don’t work like that.  This fight is over when I SAY it is and not before that!  I’m going to take my place in this company and not YOU or anyone else is not going to stop me!”  I crank back with even more pressure.

“AAAUUUUNNNGGG!  Please, Man.  What ever you say!  Please stop, you’re killing me.  AARRGHHH!  No more.  Please!  NO MORE!”

“OK, Tough Guy.  Here’s the deal.  I stay and you and your buddies team with me to make our mark in this company.  We train together and you help me get into peak condition.  Anybody makes a threat against me and it’s considered a threat against you and you will act accordingly.  Got it!”

Tony hesitates a little too long digesting the turn of events so I add a little more encouragement.  “AAARRRNNNGG!  Shit, YES!  Yes!  Whatever the hell you want!  Just don’t break my back.  Please let me go.  I can’t take anymore.”

Suddenly I am over-taken by the most amazing rush.  I’m holding this amazingly well-muscled stud helpless in my grip.  This handsome hunk is completely whipped and willing to agree to ANYTHING I say.  This is freaking COOL!

I ease off the pressure enough for Tony’s moans and groans to cease at least for now.  Twisting the big stud over on his back I am even more amazed at the sight of that much muscle broken down and under my control.  Tony’s powerful body begins to relax with relief that the pain is over.  What an idiot.

Leaping forward I drop a knee in the upper center of the muscleboy’s gut and I swear Tony’s big brown eyes just about pop out of his head.  It’s good to know that an incredible rack of abs like these can still be broken down eventually.   Tony rolls to his side in a ball as I drop to the mat behind him.  Grabbing his jaw I pull the young stud’s head back and secure my right leg around his thick manly neck.  Locking my legs in a figure-4 I slowly begin to flex.

Entirely too late, Tony becomes aware of his situation and starts to thrash around with what little power he has left.  His strong hands slap against my legs but fail to find a weakness.  The stud’s magnificently tanned skin begins to redden as my hold tightens.

“Let me go, Man.  I’ll do what ever you want.  Please.  Please!” I can’t help but notice that the muscleboy has learned to plead just about as well as he does everything else.

“Oh, Yes.  I know you’ll do what ever I want, from now on and I WILL release your helpless frame just a soon as I’m done with today’s lesson.” Finally I get to chuckle.

While the big boy thrashes and writhes in my fearsome grip, I slowly increase the pressure.  First the big stud hits ‘pure panic’ at his inability to escape then his powerful movements begin to slow.  His handsome face is nearly purple by the time Tony’s heavily muscled arms flop uncontrollably to the mat.  I feel an incredible surge of satisfaction at the realization of Tony’s massive physique locked unconscious in my grip.

I unwind my legs and let the big hunk flop to the mat then stand above him with one foot on his sculptured chest and flex my best double-biceps pose.  Shit!  It feels GOOOOD!

I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but instead of just retrieving the key, I strip the big hunk of his trunks and jock then leave him out-cold in the middle of the mat.  I head to the locker room feeling pretty damn happy with myself.

-      &nbspp; 0    -

All weekend long I suddenly start chuckling to myself.  It makes no difference what I’m doing I just have this tremendous feeling of relief and pride.  Maybe this old fart isn’t over the hill quite yet.

Monday morning, back at work and I’m greeted with a whole new attitude.  Word travels fast in an office.  Women look at me like they had never really seen me before.  Guys have this look of admiration.  For the first time I feel like I am accepted as part of the team.  I’m not at my desk long before that feeling is shattered by an intercom call.  My presence has been requested upstairs.   ‘Upstairs’ means the management floor.  This can’t be good.  Tony or one of his buddies must have filed a complaint about him getting his ass kicked.  Maybe the ‘naked thing’ was a little over the line.  I could be in deep shit.

As I leave the elevator the receptionist points down a hallway to the left saying only “4th door”.  I start down the hall with an ominous feeling.  Well, at least I had a good fight and a great weekend.  That is something.

The hallway seems a mile long by the time I reach the 4th door.  I wonder who is going to be the ‘hatchet man’ and then I know.  As I reach for the door knob, etched in the brass name plate on the door: “Wayne McCormick, Sales Manager, Region 6”.  My mind was racing and it takes a moment to sink in …… I’m Wayne McCormick!

Yes! Yes! Yes!  Life is GOOD!