March 07, 2008
I Dream of Gene-y
Gene, a journalism student at some local college, came into the gym for a short profile article on an athlete. Because I'm badass, the dude working the counter pointed her my direction. Sure, I'll let you write up something about me. I'm down to have my ego stroked. Oh yea, just like that.
The process was informative. Gene must be clairvoyant or something, since in one photo and one short e-mail, she was able to discern things about me I didn't know myself. Apparently, I'm 25 (thought I was younger!), I've "tackled the hills of Colorado," and I "make frequent trips to Mt. Whitney." Wow, she is like a false-fact psychic! I mean, I knew I lived life "on the edge, literally," (Ha!) but the rest is news to me.
And check out my body position. Sure, it looks like I was climbing a vertical wall with the photo rotated the wrong way, hell, that's what I thought too, but Gene doesn't get things wrong. Gene takes care of her shit.