A day in the life, Installment 4 - The Gay Rowing Contest

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    Dec 30, 2011 2:28 AM GMT
    As noted below, this is a fictional story and does not represent a real-life first person narrative by the OP.

    My partner and I just returned from a gay rowing contest. It serves as a fundraiser in Key West that I started a few years ago to raise money for various gay issues. I single-handedly raised $632,411 from various merchants. I always look on the positive side of things, but I had to defer trying to raise money from Real Jock because of the continued harassment and vitriol from a group whose main aim on Real Jock is to destroy the gay community, and because of my leadership role here, I have become the target of their wrath. They cost the gay community valuable contributions, but they don’t care. We know what their motives really are. They claim I should not be on a health and fitness site, but do they demonstrate the athleticism of competing in rowing competitions? You would think their organization requires some athletic interest to try and infiltrate Real Jock. Hardly. They just sit back and stew in their envy. Well enough of them. I stay above it all and never think of them.

    To train for this event, for the first time I invested in an indoor rower, a very expensive model from Concept2. This is not the average model that most common, ordinary people purchase in a sporting goods store. Having researched this very carefully, I chose the Model E which sits higher off the floor. The problem with the Model D is the seat is close to the floor, and as my partner and I have put on a few extra pounds, part of our rears would extend over the seat and hang down to rub on the floor. Rowing back and forth would lead to painful chafing. All the seats are only 12" wide, far too small for normal-sized people, such as my partner and me. Seems the world is catering to twinks.

    My partner was planning to assemble the rower after it was delivered, but he couldn’t handle it. He’s all thumbs and can’t tell the difference between a screw driver and a hammer. I never let on to anyone how awkward he is, but just quietly took over and did the work myself. I approached it like a military campaign, seizing the objective, same way I did in the military where everyone complimented me on my ability to break projects down to size and get the job done, always the first one to complete any assignment. Bob has to do everything. Nothing would get done otherwise. I only needed to call customer service for help 3 times, so I’m pretty proud of my achievement.

    I could have kept the rower in the condo, but decided to keep it in the condo association rec room so everyone could benefit. Sure it’s a lot more inconvenient for me, but thinking of others and putting them ahead of me is just what I do. Making it available for others also led me to select the particular model. The manufacturer tried to talk me into their new Dynamic Rower, designed for serious rowers and requiring a high level of expertise and coordination. They were impressed when I described my athletic accomplishments. But I knew if I selected what would be best for me and give me the most challenge, the others would fall off the rower and not be able to use it at all. The condo association president, who just happens to be my partner, insisted on putting a plaque by the rower thanking Bob for his generous donation. I asked him not to do that, but he insisted. Everyone continually thanks me, and I do get embarrassed as I’m all about doing good deeds silently.

    People have asked me how I can always afford such things, as my partner and I live on modest pensions. I explain that I use Bob’s wealth management secrets, creating what I call a pension multiplier, to enable me to purchase rowers, all the latest iPhones, and the latest Mac computers. I’m not at all selfish and explain my wealth management secrets to all who will listen. My partner gets my hand-me-downs, many of which still operate. But he is so naïve when it comes to electronics, he doesn’t even know if they are not operating, but still appreciates my gestures.

    Well getting back to the rowing competition, the rower helped me and I came in first. I never had any doubts. I had wanted the photo finish to feature me in speedos, but I could not find one with the needed gentleman’s stretch. Even though I put on a only couple of pounds from my military days when I achieved the highest PT score in the entire Army, the speedos were still too tight. It was also due to my extremely generous endowments.

    After winning the competition, I enjoyed Key West with my partner. We met a couple from Berlin, and it brought back memories from the time I served there with the Military Police. I used to look at the Soviet magazines. I learned a couple of the funny Russian letters, but studied the pictures. Just from looking at the pictures, I was able to really understand the Russian mind, and willingly shared my perceptions with the other officers, some of whom were in Military Intelligence. They were all amazed at my perception in understanding the enemy, better than all of them. They said Bob really belongs in Military Intelligence. They continually sought my advice on international affairs. In fact, they were so impressed that they called the famous border crossing at the Berlin Wall that most called Checkpoint Charlie, instead they called it Checkpoint Bob. I am always so embarrassed at my accomplishments and keep them to myself.

    That also reminded me of a recent phone call from a subordinate from my military days who is now a top General in the Pentagon. He said he just called to say hi, but I knew he wanted my advice on current international affairs. His real intent was to pick my brain from all that insight I gained from looking at the magazine pictures in Berlin. I had previously advised him that the Obama administration should pull out of the missile defense shield from Eastern Europe without demanding any concessions from the Russians, such as supporting strict sanctions against Iran or not selling anti-ballistic missile systems to them. I impressed on him that the Russians respect and appreciate weakness, and not to listen to the radical, right-wing neocons who always think they know best. I was gratified that my advice was followed by Obama.

    Well enough digressing and to get back to race. I will post photos of my win that shows everyone congratulating me and shaking my hand. It really is embarrassing getting all the accolades I continually receive. I try to stay humble and modest despite everything.

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    Previous installments

    http://www.realjock.com/gayforums/2002334

    http://www.realjock.com/gayforums/2016481

    http://www.realjock.com/gayforums/2034589

    These installments are based on fictional characters and the primary events are also fictional. Any similarity to a real person or persons, especially in terms of self-indulgent or pompous behavior, is completely the inference of the reader.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
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    Dec 31, 2011 4:16 AM GMT
    Needed that lafugh sitting here on a cold and rainy Friday night
  • Suetonius

    Posts: 1842

    Oct 25, 2014 7:56 PM GMT
    Hope you get time to write more.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
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    May 21, 2015 1:01 AM GMT
    southbeach1500 saidTime for a re-read!

    It covers both the athleticism and modesty that have become quintessential Real Jock.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
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    May 21, 2015 2:42 AM GMT
    Colonel Bouquet is clearly an exemplar for gay men everywhere.
  • TheBaise

    Posts: 363

    May 22, 2015 12:44 AM GMT
    The faux Colonel is the very epitome of modesty. He would never in a million years want any publicity at all whatsoever for all his grand generosity......or should I say grandiosity? All pomp and circumstance - NO substance.
  • bobbobbob

    Posts: 2812

    Aug 19, 2015 2:17 AM GMT
    jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzz......... SocCal you write fluent Art Diva as well as he does... but that's just my inference from reading it.

    She really is a fucking cartoon characterization of piss-elegant, vain, egocentric flamingomosexual kwayne.