How long has Big Hair Monday been a thing? I'm pretty sure the whole time. Like, 10 years+. A sort of Steady Eddie Monday event that draws in a long line of veterans and newbies alike.Easy to take for granted (foreshadowing). I don't suppose today was any different. There were veterans. There were newbies. It was Monday. It was 5:30. That sort of wraps up the requirements for implementation.
Here's what you didn't, no couldn't, know about Big Hair Monday today. You might think you have it all figured out. But brother, trust me, you don't. You might think the site Q, Rube, is just a quiet sort of guy. Silently going about the business of keeping BHM in business. He's not quiet, he's calculating. Sort of like whatever might be going on in the Big 12 right now, calculating. So here it is, Rube had 2 spies at the workout today. Two normal appearing pax there for all the wrong reasons. They didn't say anything. Did ALL the exercises. Ran in the middle of the pack. Interlopers? Maybe? Hidden agenda? Definitely.
I've never lied to you before. I mean a real lie. Not counting any of the thousands of #truthnuggests I've strategically placed in my back blasts over the years. I was not in on it = real truth. I only know about it because I watched Rube's eyes. The entire workout. I knew something was up the way Rube approached the pre-workout COT. He eyes were darty, he seemed nervous. Like a man with something to hide. A dirty secret.
I knew just what to do. We ran the Apocolypto trail. Pitch black. The kind of trail where your senses go on high alert. According to Dredd this sort of thing helps keep your brain sharp. Or maybe he said running in the dark isn't too sharp. I was just trying to flush out the truth. Didn't work. A pit stop at the Nature Museum parking lot for some shoulder burn did the trick though. The spies revealed themselves AND their purpose for being there. They did to me at least. Something about a money-grab week. They were their to investigate any possible corruption within our ranks; to see if even a single dollar changed hands from pax to Q. Was this really an exercise-for-hire operation? Did Red Warrior actually pay for his accountability and solid dad-bod? Was core principal numnero uno just a sham? They were there to discover the truth; bait style.
Enough of that. Bat outta hell we're off again. More dark Apocolypto sense-tingling trail to tackle.... and then I heard it. A whisper in my ear. "Go to the Q-dog Slaughter. I want you to take this group to the Q-dog." No! "Do you even know where it is?" Of course I do, I'll show....Almost. He almost got me. "I'll pay you $500 to take us to the Q-dog." And there is was. The offer.
Now, truth of the matter was that I could use the money. This Nantan gig doesn't pay all that much. And a fella can only skim so much off GrowRucks and t-shirt sales. I mean, I DO have boat payments. But I took a solemn oath to uphold the Core Principals. Well, I said I would, maybe not so solemnly. I was torn. And only about a quarter mile of darkened pavement left to make my decision. Spy #2 sensed my hesitation. He said to spy #1 "He doesn't know where it is." Loud enough for me to hear of course. And then, get this, Spy #1 actually reaches in and pulls out a duct-tape wallet that his daughter made him for father's day. And flashes a few hundos. That new Calloway Mavrik driver flashed before my eyes. I could finally fix that wicked slice I can't seem to get rid of. And everyone likes the Q-dog. Everyone. Who would know?