Muscle


It is Saturday evening approximately 11:45 PM.  Close to the witching hour.  I had a low key day.  Got up and did some work on my current chapter.  I managed to attain my 1,600 some odd required words for the NaNoWriMo thing, however, I don’t believe I will reach the said goal of 50,000 words, but we’ll see what happens.

I went for Dim Sum late this afternoon.  Once back at the homestead, I made a few phone calls and watched the hockey game.  We were getting massacred.  I had to turn it off.  A bit hungry, I decided to pop down to Boston Pizza for a little nibble.

It was just coming up on 10:00 PM.

The service was just fine as it typically is.  Then the invasion occurred.  Seriously, I have never witnessed anything of this nature before.  This restaurant can easily seat 500 people.  It is a big place.

This time of night on a Saturday and usually it is only 1/3 full, if that.

I am guessing there was a body builder competition or show happening today somewhere in New Westminster, because several hundred of them suddenly began streaming into the restaurant.

I could only watch in absolute awe as the restaurant was invaded.  Many had trophies in hand along with cameras.  Each group that came in consisted of 10, 15 or 20.  Each group had a distinctive look, as though they should be in a particular category of the competition.

I had brought my laptop to continue working on my chapter.  I found myself quickly distracted by the muscle that was moving about the restaurant.  The normal folk, such as myself, stared helplessly as they continued to stream in.

I had not seen my server in a good half hour and when I did, she didn’t look my way…just ran about delivering drinks, then spent a good twenty minutes delivering food to a group of about 30 body builders.

I know what its like to get slammed in restaurant.  I’ve done this job many times, the most recent turn was just four years ago.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a slam of this nature though.

I continued to work on my chapter.  Here I am in the middle of this strange invasion writing a hot sex scene.  I was looking at the muscled bodies that surrounded me trying to decide if I personally found them appealing.

Not so much.

Some, yes, not too bad…other just scarily muscled.  Several women came in, what category they were entered into, I am not certain, but shit, they were big, buff and frighteningly something.

The normal folk stared in disbelief, somewhat intimidated that the staff could no longer attend to their needs quite so fast, if at all.

The restaurant was now full to capacity…the waiting area was packed, and they locked the front door.  The team pulled together spitting out drinks, food and everything else the masses had requested.

I would nab one of them from time to time to bring me a brew then continued writing.

I was trying to wrap my head in this hot sexual interplay with my characters.  It wasn’t working.  I got up to a tough and rumble sexual interplay that involved a lemon infused dessert that the male character had created and doused himself in to be consumed by the female.  She had just begun to perform an animalistic blow job on the male character, and well…I had to stop.

Crashes and loud outbursts of cheers invaded my thought pattern repeatedly and my curiosity found me watching all that was unfolding around me.

They are all spray painted… a strange orange-brown colour.  Provocative cover-ups over sequined thongs that peeked out.  The men wearing tank tops…several of the women as well.  Trophies are held with obvious pride by several of them.

I decided then to just post about this experience.  The sex scene I was writing was becoming far too choppy and disorientated as a result of this strange distraction.

I had not expected this energy, so why not just write about it?

Bleached out hair and heavy makeup on the women. Many wearing heels of three to four inches.  Tight clothing to display their bulging striations.

I have recently researched the extreme diets these individuals pace themselves through.  Prior to a competition they will dehydrate their bodies so that the skin will become tight over their muscle to better define it.

Many attend tanning salons on a regular basis.  Also,they will spray on fake tans to further bring out the desired effects and oil up their body.

I found myself wondering what the appeal was in this particular look.  I have no doubt that training is absolutely grueling and painful.  Food is measured and consumed in a manic sense.

To be successful they must follow an incredibly strict diet to attain the look desired. Because there were so many and of various age groups, I began to notice the quality of the skin.

Up close, you see, beneath the make-up, beneath the presentation a rather rough and tough texture to the skin tone. This is true of both the men and women.

Now that the competition is over they came here and consumed carbs, fat, water, fluids, just plain ol’ food.

I guess what you have to understand is the toll this takes on the body.  Any extreme will affect the body and this is an extreme.

Body builders, fitness competitors and all those that fall in that realm spend hours each day in the gym.  Their workouts are manic to me.  I’ve met people in my gym who are extreme.

I suppose on my end, it is something to behold, something to wonder at.  I guess I don’t really understand it fully.  There is an odd punishment that the body must go through.  The objective of these sports is basically appearance driven.

Have your muscles properly proportioned and capable of popping out on demand in a uniform manner.  I don’t know.  I have watched these competitions on TV.  Not something I fully understand nor do I fully understand the rules of judging such events.

This evening I saw bodies of various sizes and shapes.  Some small, some large.  Cosmetically everything about them is extreme.  The mascara and eyeliner on the women.  The bleached out and various colours of the hair.

And as quickly as they all came, they inhaled their food and drink then left.  I watched the servers sigh in relief that it was over. This had not been expected.

It is now 1:00 AM.  I am finishing up and preparing to leave.  The masses have just disbursed. This oddity now recorded.

Reporting live, from Boston Pizza, November 10th, 2013…this is Nancy saying…good night and good health.

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