Zoomdoggle: More fun than work!

Meet the most important post of the week. Why? Cause this is the one where you tell us what YOU think would be fun to do. If it sounds like a good time, we’ll do our best to set it up for you. What are you waiting for? All it takes is an email to get in on the doggle. FIRST UP, SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ZOOMDOGGLE HIRES ONE READER A BODYGUARD FOR THE DAY…

10AM:
As Zoomdoggle’s first “reader” guinea-pig, I’m not exactly sure what to expect. I’d answered an email they’d sent around asking what, if anything, people thought might be fun to do. I said “have a bodyguard.” It seemed like a cool idea. Forty-eight hours later I got a call telling me that he, my protection “a guy who’s guarded the bodies of Shakira, Marilyn Manson, and Madonna” would be arriving along with a photographer in the morning. Looking back, I’m not so sure this was a good idea.

10:55 AM:
I’m freaking out on gchat.
“Dude, what if I’m not cool enough for him?”
“Dude, I am sure you’re not cool enough for him.”
“But don’t you think it’ll be fun having a bodyguard?”
“I guess, but what’s he gonna guard you from?”
Maybe I should’ve asked for an arch-nemesis instead.

11 AM:
The doorbell rings. It is probably eighty humid degrees out and Francis is dressed in a pressed black suit. There is not a bead of sweat anywhere on his face. It occurs to me that sweat does not form on this man because the sweat is scared he will kick its ass. In this case, I have tremendous sympathy for sweat. I decided to open the door before he kicks it in.

11:01 AM:
“Nice place,” he says as he helps himself to a handful of pink jellybeans.
“Thanks, it’s my parents’.”
He seems dismayed. Shakira, presumably, does not still live with her parents.
Still, he seems to be enjoying the jellybeans my mom keeps around.

11:15AM:
The last few minutes have been awkward, not quite the Rob & Big situation I’d envisioned.
Right now, I am desperately wishing I had an exciting day full of impresario-style activities planned. These are pretty much the thoughts I have every day at about this time.

11:45 AM:
The photographer arrives. It only takes her a minute or two to realize that a day of sitting around is not going to be visually stimulating. I am grateful when she suggests we set up a few shots. Secretly, though, I think she sees this as a way of banging out a full day’s assignment in just a few minutes. Still, it’s minutes before before we can leave the house… she, too, is enjoying the jellybeans.

12:30 PM:
It is at the grocery store where I first realize how truly creepy it is to have someone twice your size following RIGHT behind you. After picking up some oranges, I turn around and bump right into Francis’ 342-inch chest.
“Do you have to stand so close?” I ask.
“Just doing my job.”
Instead of being impressed—as I’d hoped—that I have personal security, most of the other shoppers appear frustrated as they squeeze past the goon in the cheese aisle.

1:45 PM
Having dropped off the groceries at home (I didn’t let Francis carry the bags, lest he think me a sissy), we’re now off to the park for my afternoon jog.
En route, I mention casually to Francis, “You must have seen some crazy things.”

“Nope,” he says. It is hard to ascertain the emotions of mountains, but I’m starting to think this one doesn’t like me.”Come on, there must be something… some crazy night out… a stalker you had to crush?” He shakes his head.

“In my business, if you talk, you don’t get much business.”

2:10 PM
Maybe I’m just bothered that the day isn’t working out quite as I’d hoped, but I am suddenly seized by the idea of humiliating this guy in a jogging competition.
“So how is this going to work?” I ask as we hit the path. “Are you going to jog beside me or in front to clear a path?”
“When I did this for Madonna, she got me a bike.”
He looks at me accusingly.
Thus it is decided, by Francis, that Francis will sit on a park bench while I run around him in a circle.
The photographer is thoroughly enjoying this. Francis lightens up some as she sets up some “holding shots.”

4:05 PM
The photographer is bored. She suggests one last shot before she she takes off, something that says “end of day.” I suggest we shoot Francis tucking me into bed. Francis does not seem pleased. He leaves the room to make a call while I remain in bed, stuffed piggy nestled in my arm. This is probably a good time to mention I’m 24, have recently spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on a college education, and never dreamed that my life—much less my fantasy day with a bodyguard—would turn out this way.
A WORD FROM ZOOM: Though Francis did call to ask if he really had to “tuck the client in”, and Andrew called concerned that Francis didn’t like him… the big guy did later describe him as “all right” and suggest we all get a drink sometime. Some people are just hard to read.

5:30 PM
With the photographer gone, Francis has turned off the charm.

8:00 PM
The date I’ve been looking forward to for days. The date I scheduled for tonight so I could wow her with my team. I’m explaining to her how all aspiring writers need bodyguards Besides, I’m getting into gonzo journalism, first person experiential is the wave of the fut…”when she interrupts.
“Has he ever killed someone?” she asks in a hushed whisper.
“I don’t know,” I respond, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “Anyway, the really cool thing about…”
“Like the CIA?” she asks eyeing him. “Wow.”

8:35 PM
We’re into our entres. I’m conveying the passion I have for writing “and how excited I am about this whole Zoomdoggle thing I’ve stumbled into” when she interjects.
“Will you ask him if he’s killed someone?”
“Francis, Amanda wants to know if you’ve ever killed anyone.” I ask as she looks at the my big friend eating little spring rolls one table over.
He looks blankly back at us. “Can’t say.”
Amanda clearly finds this answer exciting. Women would date broken glass and fire if they could. I’m starting to worry that Amanda would not date me.

10:55 PM
Amanda is long gone. Without me. And now Francis about to take off to go work security at some club that’s apparently so trendy, he’d rather not tell me about it.
“Well, Francis, it’s been fun,” I say, “I hope it hasn’t been too boring for you.”
Francis smiles. For the first time all day. “At least I didn’t have to beat anyone up.”
I’m pondering whether a day where I beat someone up would be a good or bad one, when he says the coolest thing I’ve heard him say all day:
“Call me if you need anything in the future.”
An enforcer friend? That’s even cooler than an arch nemesis. Thanks Zoomdoggle.

—AndrewSelz@zoomdoggle.com

Bodyguards not your bag of tea? What would you like, then? Wanna drive a freight train? Build a motorcycle? Shoot a cannon? Don’t be scared to dream big. Let us know what you’re into and — if it sounds like it might be a good time — we’ll see what we can do. Send ideas to dreamdoggle@zoomdoggle.com. And don’t forget to tune in tomorrow. There’s more fun in store.