The Calendar saga cont.

So here stands this behemoth in front of me. He peels off his tee shirt, dang it this man was a museum piece; Leonardo’s David had nothing on this kid. He says “I can get the front can you just do the back?” “Damn right you’ll do the front.” I said, he laughed, “yeah I’m not that kind of guy either.” We said “that kind of guy” in unison; it’s a firehouse thing.

Where to start on this fleshy piece of marble? I looked around the area to see if I could get any technique pointers from the other man servants. I had given women back massages before, but this wasn’t a massage it was the application of theatrical makeup.

The others were doing it in fireman fashion; slop it on fast with as little actual contact as possible. “Well you gonna do it?” Kevin looked back over one of mountainous shoulders. “Yeah, I was warming up my hands.” “Dude! Just put it on fast, it’s creepy enough having you do it, waiting is even creepier.”

I tipped the bottle upside down and squirted about half of the oil over his shoulders and then just began to agitate the fluid. It was like waxing a car, his muscles were as hard as a tile floor. Oh I’m in over my head I thought again. I finished up and handed him the bottle.

“Damn Kevin. How long you been working for this?” “I don’t know, I started training and dieting seriously about 6 weeks ago. You?” I looked down at my flabby, fake tanned belly. “Bout the same.” He stifled a laugh. “What?” I said. “Nothing dude.” Kevin said his hands raised in a sign of peace.

“You don’t believe me?” “Whatever you say man. You look good for your age.” Now he didn’t have to say that. “Thanks, my age.” “Hey Tim nothing personal man, I’d go in a fire with you any day bro, you been doing it longer than I’ve been alive. So really man you look good it shows you take care of yourself.” He stuck out his paw again, “Good luck man.” “You to Kevin, and thanks.” We shook hands and he dropped to the ground and started doing pushups, I started looking for a cooler.

As I made my way to the beer trough the pushup scene was repeated every few feet by another gladiator, as well as weight lifting, jumping jacks, pull-ups, anything to drive blood into the muscles and swell them. Me, I was doing 18 ounce curls.

I was given the sign, I was up next for the catwalk. For the first time I could remember I actually had a bit of stage fright. I shook it off.

The master of ceremonies was at the mic again. “Once aging let’s give a big hand to our oldest contestant of the night. Not only tonight but in the history of this calendar. Big welcome for Tim Casey, he is representing the Colorado Springs fire department.”

I didn’t hear the crowd all I heard was “history”. At that moment I decided to have fun and take this thing over the top, I knew I didn’t stand a chance of making the calendar, but I did know I could give a memorable performance. That’s what I do.

I strolled out to the mic, there were more questions to come from the judges. I was wearing my turnout pants, my suspenders dangling from my hips and a department tee shirt. I stopped short of the microphone and made the crowd wait. Now I hear them. Pretty loud.

I reached up and grabbed the center of my chest ala Hulk Hogan and just ripped the tee shirt off my body. I shredded it in my hands and walked to the edge of the stage and threw pieces of it to the screaming ladies. They fought for it like I was Mick Jagger or some rock star. Crazy. Then I moved to the mic.

The judges laughed. A lady reporter was first up. “Well Tim that was different, are you different form the other competitors?” She asked. I was going to have fun. “Yes.” Was all I said. She stared at me a moment. “In what ways?”

“Well quite frankly, since my advanced age seems to be a subject tonight I’d like to point out I’ve been a firefighter longer than these guys have had those six packs they’ve been oiling up back stage.” I write textbooks I don’t read them. I can have an educated conversation on many subjects, and I ate lunch.”

Got a pretty good laugh with all that. Now it was time for me to take the runway. I had watched a few of oily brethren give their performances, and it very much reminded of a music video, I don’t know if you have seen it, but it was called “I’m too sexy”.

I didn’t stand a chance, although I had worked the ramp as a model in my youth those days and that agility had long since departed. I couldn’t dance my way out of a speeding ticket.

So I threw caution to the wind, I walked down the ramp in the least sexy way anyone had ever seen I’m sure. When I got to the end and the judges I got down on my hands and knees and did my best tiger impression, pawing and hissing at the weather lady.

She was startled and pushed back a bit in her chair, I smiled and winked at her. The TV news guy just shook his head eyes on his feet. What the hell. I turned and began a slow crawl back up stage. The crowd was only a couple of feet away from me and the women shouted their approval of my show and some their phone numbers. They reached for me and wanted to touch me. Surreal doesn’t come close to a description. I really did feel like a piece of meat, not bad really.

Here I am at 1000 words, so I promise I’ll finish tomorrow.