I am first and foremost a lifter.  Talkin weights.  When I die I want people to look at my grave and think “man, what a waste of massive bis and killer pecs.”  I would have them bury my arms above ground if it was legal.  I’m pretty sure my biceps will take years to deteriorate.  I’m that cut.  A friend hear a rumor about Chuck Norris that states that when he does pushup, he isn’t lifting his weight up, he’s pushing the earth down.  I want that sort of legacy.  Around the gym I get respect.  Especially on max day.  People at the gym know what I’m capable of.  They fear me.  At least they avoid me.  That’s why it’s so maddening that jerk off kids don’t show me any love.

   Because I spend so much time working my Lats, I can’t really hold down a demanding full time job.  I work part time gigs to pay for the Whey and chicken breasts.  Recently I got hired on by an area home owners association to be their “Property Protection Patrolman.”  It’s only 4 hours a day and I get a vehicle to use free of charge.  I have a uniform and a flashlight too.  I am very clearly in charge of patrolling the neighborhoods and yet these punk kids flip me crap everyday.  Today some little asswipe yelled “hey…I thought I smelled turkey bacon?!”  It was some sort of attempt to point out that I am not actually a cop but some sort of imitation security guard.  He wasn’t laughing when I wrote him a citation for “Curbside Harassment.”  It doesn’t have any actual fine attached to it but it’s bright pink and is definitely official looking. 

   All I am asking for is some respect.   What makes me a target?  The embroidered badge on my uniform clearly says “Serving Your Homes” and yet these little A holes are always acting like I’m some narc.  I would think that my hard earned physique would be enough to command their respect but I’m guessing they can’t tell how massive I am inside this compact hybrid response vehicle.  I even take the identifying door cling magnets off sometimes when I want to work sting or do recon around the community park.  They still seem to know it’s me.  “Hey boner…UPS called, they want their uniform back!”

    If these kids puts half as much time working out as they do taunting me we would be living in a better world.  One with bigger Delts and Quads.  Maybe then I wouldn’t need to patrol the streets looking for a reason to fire up my amber lights.  It’s a place I would sure like to live.  As long as the gym doesn’t get too crowded.