Air Drying. Immaculate Grooming. Power. Style. That is what I am about.

I wake up. It's 6:30 AM. As I said before, this truly rare specimen of manhood's body clock is as precise as his body is well maintained -- muscle mass, density, power, intensity, mental focus, daring. I practice a couple of pose combos: Front Double Biceps, Back Lat Spread, Front Abdominal-Thigh Isolation. Then I hit the shower. You’ll notice I don’t towel off. I like to air dry. The blinds of my Adams Morgan compound raised, I head to the kitchen for some herbal tea and some ISS Effervescent Creatine Orange. It’s loaded with Glutamine which helps me maintain muscle mass. Sit down on the couch and watch a video of the 2004 Hazarajat Bodybuilding Invitational. I won that one handily. My contest grooming is immaculate and my pose down unbeatable. But that was before the Taliban came.

Anyway, I slip on my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. I put on my medallion of Aderbad Maraspand pouring boiling molten metal on his chests to show the spiritual power of the Zarathushtri faith. I strut to the Dunn Loring station. My head bobbing to music only I can hear, the heavy medallion is beating on my bare chest in rhythm. My well toned pecs are unharmed, much like Aderbad Maraspand’s pecs, I’m thinking, when he poured molten metal on them.

There is a delay on the orange line today. I’m late for my meeting with the PR team. We’re finalizing travel plans to Maryland in a couple of weeks for a series of meetings with high government to consult on what I am known for: love, looking good, and dignity. Seems that they want to import some of my style in a state not known for style. Best of luck to them. So I make the most of the crowed train: flexing, winking and pointing with the thumb trigger to all the pretty ladies. One in particular blushes. I know what she wants to ask me but she is shy. I approach and tell her that I’d be more than happy to let her do a charcoal rubbing of my abs to remember me by. She has no charcoal. No paper. I tell her that she should probably carry a charcoal pencil and paper with her in the future. Who knows when she might run into me on my morning commute.

I get off at Dunn Loring, then off to work. Air drying. Precise body clock. Contest grooming. Style. Power. Dignity. Grace. That is what I’m about. And if you want to do a charcoal rubbing of my abs to remember me by, please come properly equipped.