Who no longer has to wait by the mailbox for her unemployment check? THIS GIRL!

Spring has Sprung! The sun is shining. Flowers are blooming. And I've got a pep in my step because MAMA GOT A NEW JOB! I got a call to write for an online fitness magazine. The owner is an ex Mr. Olympia. A good looking brother in his early 50's. Charming. Full of smiles and compliments. And built like a brick shithouse.

After reading several of my articles and conducting a Skype interview, it was finally time to meet my new boss in person.

 The BE FIT Magazine headquarters were situated at the top of a tall, swanky building in Century City. The office had sprawling views of Los Angeles from the beaches in Santa Monica to the hills of Hollywood.  Mr. Fit sat behind his large Carpathian elm desk with his feet propped up Mad Men style.   He dismissed his assistant who had escorted me in, and walked around to shake my hand.  His eyes slowly took me in from the fedora titled on the side of my head right on down to my Giuseppe Zanotti platforms.

"Giovanna!  It is my deepest pleasure to meet you.  You are even more beautiful in person."

I blushed and took his hand as he kissed mine.

"Wow. Thank you. It's very nice to meet you as well.  I love your office.  The views are incredible."

Mr. Fit walked over to his wet bar and began pouring himself a cocktail.  I felt like I was meeting with J.R. Ewing.  Everything's bigger in Texas, they say.

And apparently Mr. Fit was too, or so his super tight trousers hinted.  By the way -who in the hell drinks a double whiskey on the rocks at 11am?  Mr. Fit gestured as if to ask if I wanted a drink too.

"No, I 'm good. Thanks."

"Well you're welcome to come enjoy the views here whenever you like.  If you've got writer's block, come on down here. I'll set you up in one of our spare offices."

"Thank you very much. I'm really excited about writing for BE FIT," I said taking off my hat and placing it in my lap.

Mr. Fit walked around to my side of the desk and leaned back against it just a foot or so away from me. "Giovanna, as I said during our teleconference, I want to encourage you to bring your young, hip style to our publication.  I don't want those tired how-to workout articles.  They've been done to death!  I want fun. I want adventure. I want sex."

I coughed and nervously tucked my hair behind my ear.  "I'm sorry. Did you say you want sex?"

"Yes!  Sex," he said emphatically.  "I want to make this into a sexy magazine. And by sexy, I mean edgy!  I want your articles to lead the way in innovative new workouts.  If the latest craze is couples taking tantric sex swing classes at Equinox-I want you to be the one breaking that story.  Get into those classes! Swing on those swings!"

I took out my notebook and began scribbling furiously.  Partially out of embarrassment but mostly so he wouldn't see me hiding a laugh.  "Well, I'm actually single. So it might be hard for me to attend a couples tantric sex swing class, " I said.

He took a swig of his whiskey and walked towards the windows. "Ahhhh, single. I remember those days. Best days of my life." Mr. Fit climbed up into his window ledge and pressed his nose against the glass.  "Now, I'm just an old married guy stuck in a loveless marriage."  Placing his glass by his feet, he suddenly stepped into a handstand.  Where in the hell was I? Cirque du Soleil!

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I'm sure married life can't be that bad. Um. I know there's a window there and everything, but you're kind of making me nervous."

He turned right side up.  "You're right. I got three fantastic kids out of the deal. The self-involved, manipulative wife must've been the bonus."

"So...no cocktail parties at your house I take it?"

He laughed just a little too loudly.  "I wouldn't do that to my staff.  I'd like them to stick around.  Enough about me!" Mr. Fit hopped off of the window ledge and I inhaled for the first time since I walked into his office.

"Beautiful Giovanna, let's get you out there on your first assignment.  I want you to write an article on how you stay in shape.  Seven days in the life of Giovanna.  I know our readers want to know how a young, hot, single gal like yourself keeps your body so tight."

I smiled and fumbled to put my notebook back into my bag.  "I can definitely do that.  I've been wanting to take a new yoga booty ballet class at my gym.  So this will be my motivation."

Mr. Fit walked alongside me as we headed to the door of his office.  "I can't imagine you'd need any extra motivation.  I can tell you're ambitious all on your own." As I reached for the doorknob, he put his hand against the hard wood to stop me from opening it.

"If you need anything at all Giovanna, you call me. Anything. I get this feeling around you like I just want to take care of you.  Here's my personal cell phone line."  Mr. Fit handed me his business card.  "You can call me anytime of day or night on that number."

I accepted the card and reached out my hand for a firm shake. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Mr. Fit took my hand and pulled me in for a big hug. That lasted just a little bit too long.

"Good luck kid. Knock 'em dead out there!"

I smiled and waved almost tripping over a flower pot as I walked towards the exit.  The receptionist pursed her lips and shot me a knowing stare as I said good-bye to her.

This job was going to be interesting.