A photo shoot

You lean your head out of the shower and look at the phone. You don't recognize the number so you let it go to voicemail. You crank the water temperature up and finish rinsing off.

You exit the shower and dry off. A quick look at your cellphone shows a message. You hit play and speaker.

Hey, hi, took me forever to find your number. Your shoot is tomorrow at noon, 1264 First Street. It'll pay about five thousand dollars, twenty if we use it for the cover. And, believe me after today I'm rooting for the cover. My number is 555-555-8000. Call me if you have any questions.

Questions? The first one is what would a fitness magazine want with a slightly pudgy thirty one year old. You turn and look at yourself in the mirror. Your jaw drops.

Apparently a couple of months of intense workouts have finally dropped that freshman fifteen and more. Your body is tight and toned, any cellulite is long gone. Your waist is slimmer, yet somehow your ass is more toned, round, and sexy and your breasts actually seem a bit firmer and larger. You shake your head at the image in disbelief.

The realization that this offer of a photo shoot wasn't a pick up line sinks in. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money for a day's work...