Damn it feels good to be a gangsta


I’ve told this story a bunch, but I’m going to tell it again.

It must have been shortly after the first Avengers movie came out. So I guess 2012. I still used to go to the gym. And my gym used to be a gym instead of whatever it is now. Actually, I think it’s a gym, but it had been vacant, then something else, then a gym again. So that’s how long ago it was. Chris Evans, the actor who plays Captain America, came to my gym during the day. There was no one there. Literally, maybe four people. Which is why that gym stopped being a gym, cuz no one used it. He had a big upper body, I remember that. But he was a lot shorter than me. I looked it up and it says he’s 6′. But that’s probably Hollywood height and he’s maybe 5’10”. I’m 6’4″ when I stand up straight. If I stretch and stand up straight I’m probably like 7’15 and 1/2″. But who stands up straight?

Anyway, he wasn’t well-known yet. He had on headphones and was doing his workout. I got the sense it was maintenance. He wasn’t going aggro or pumping crazy. He was alone. So no personal trainer or anything. I even got the idea he was really down about it. I read an interview early in the days when he could be caught off guard, and he said something like, “Marvel owns me for the next decade.” And that’s got to be rough.

In any case, he was dully going about his exercise routine. Like, he couldn’t even take off one day to not exercise. He probably drove down to the South Bay, met some friends or investors or something, and asked for the closest gym, which was mine. After he used a machine, I slowly went by and worked out on it. I took his weight and added significantly to it. Just to be able to say that I was stronger than Captain America. It felt like this.

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