I grouse as I fill the 1287th paper cup with Gatorade. Amanda is slicing oranges and shoving them into little paper cups that will be summarily squashed by the fists of runners and flung in our faces. And we have to cheer for those same people.“Amy said that if we volunteer and hand out rehydration we can go to all the after-event parties and meet cool people,” Amanda explains. A bee begins to hover over her hands, lazy and drunk, and I back away slowly.We’re at this 10k running event in downtown Boston, surrounded by a crowd that cheers on the runners. Amy’s one of the athletes, and Mom and Dad are somewhere nearby, Dad with a camera so big and old it might have a black cloth you have to drape over it, and Mom’s wearing four-inch high heels that scream I Am So Not a Runner. The race is for a charity run to raise money for some medical condition I’ve forgotten already. The runners shoot through mud runs, climb crazy ropes courses, and engage in a manufactured obstacle course that is carefully cultivated to generate maximum filth and photogenic fun.I just came to help out because Amy’s on my case about turning into one of those women they profile on a cable reality television show, the kind with three hundred dolls in a living museum in their basement, or the woman who grows her fingernails out so long she can pick locks across the street. “And that’s my cue to leave,”
What do You think about Shopping For A Billionaire 4?
