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| - I've just finished at the gym. Sweat glistens off my perfectly chiseled abs and falls from my well-shaped chin. I yearn for sustenance. I require nutrients. My aching muscles cry out for protein, protein MORE PROTEIN!
And, what's this?
I've forgotten my protein shake. A rookie mistake, but a common one when you're so in the zone that you simply can't wait to get to the gym and do chin-ups until the muscles beneath your flesh feel as though they are about to burst forth in a testosterone explosion.
What's a well-built showcase of male perfection to do?
Gathering my belongings and giving one last flex to the locker room mirror, I climb into my whip and take a 3 minute drive to Booster Juice.
I push the door open with one swift motion of my bulging biceps. The place is empty. Good, no competition. I've spent enough time battling my inner demons at the gym, the last thing I need is to battle soccer moms jockeying for position in the booster juice line.
I order a High Impact Acai Berry.
The high school girl behind the counter, obviously in awe of my incredible physique, delays only a moment before ringing me through. She sets about her business behind the counter, mixing fruits, proteins, magic and just a pinch of her heart's deepest desires.
I grab it from the counter and slowly swallow the first few gulps of what I know is a well mixed elixir that will take my torn muscle groups to that next level of hugeness.
I wave slightly. "Thanks! Peace." I say. She watches me go, probably wondering what great adventure I am off to next, longing instinctually to follow me, but knowing she cannot.
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