Coach Chahuank greeted me. He had an amazing deep red complexion. "You're going to tell me you want to win," he said. He knew my thoughts before I knew them, a man of second-sight, sibylline even. I wanted to be the quintessential older athlete who might never have the full bloom of youth again but could still be a champion. In this, the most important interview of my life, I filled myself with bravado.
"I want to be the best ever," my answer.
"The Olympic team might have accepted you but for that video."
"Supposed to be private. I sued the distributor but the internet protects anonymous real well. I'm not proud of it and I won't apologize."
"It's one thing to wank for the camera. It's another to throw yourself at six men."
"An acting job. It paid four years of my Bachelors degree. One of the stupid old farts governing swimming actually called it the crime that dare not speak its name, like we're living in Victorian England."
"And the dolphin?"
"They told me it was a man in a suit. I didn't realize it was real until it was too late."
Chahuank nodded, slowly. "I guess that's understanda--"
"Their loss, it was. Look at me now. Third interview today, eleventh of the week. My fame precedes me like the feathers of a peacock walking backwards. Discipline, dedication, hard work, it's all very well, but for a shot at that elusive target--fame, fortune and your own reality show--follow Pamela, Paris, all the greats: whore yourself out on Youtube.
Opening: Dave F......Continuation: Khazar-khum/Anon.