It was 7:30am Pacific time, when the news of Frank Schilling intending to participate in the 2016 Olympics in Rio at the sport of windsurfing reached the DomainTools headquarters.
Ammar Kubba, CEO of Thought Convergence, leaned back in his Aeron chair and rubbed his freshly trimmed goatee.
“What is this bullshit, Frankie is trying to shift the focus from what I’ve been doing all these years?” muttered Ammar and picked up the phone.
A few seconds later, Frank Schilling’s cellphone in the Caymans played the “I’m sexy and I know it” ringtone.
The ever-busy Canadian answered his phone on the first ring.
“Hey Ammar, what’s up brother? Why the early call, let me guess – you’re just now heading to bed, party animal eh!” said Frank, in his most casual voice.
After all, it was a comfortable 10:30am in the Caymans.
“No man, partying can wait till TRAFFIC, you know it. But let me ask you something, all this press coverage about your Olympic bid for a medal in 2016, you might as well give up now dude.”
Frank took a sip from his seven-fruit power drink and let out a hearty laugh.
“Hahaha, Ammar, getting a little jealous about my Olympic goals? I’m after the gold, yes, and I intend to be the first domainer that wins it in watersports. Want to join Team Frankie?”
A few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed, before Ammar finally spoke.
“Listen brother, I love you, but this is bullshit. I don’t know if you’re aware of my gold medal in swimming. Barcelona 1992, 100m breakstroke. I”ve been there, done that – you’re 20 years too late, Frank!”
Frank put the power drink down on the table, in a state of shock.
“You’re kidding me, right? I had no idea. Do you have a photo to prove that? Not that I doubt you or anything, just curious to see you with the gold.”
Ammar Kubba’s legendary win in the Barcelona 1992 Olympics. Breaststroke is Ammar’s favorite style.
Ammar laughed, aware of his triumph. Finally, he was able to top Frank Schilling outside of their usual NameJet duels.
“Sure thing Frank, I’ll email you the photo in a few minutes. If you still want to train for the 2016 Olympics, be my guest, I’ll be rooting for ya! Bye for now, brother.”
Frank put his iPhone in its charging station. The beauty and serenity of his Caymans villa seemed to crush him, as if the walls were caving in.
“Son of a gun. I now have to train in track and field instead,” muttered Frank.
He picked up the phone and speed-dialed a number.
“Hello, Shane? Listen man, I have to get started with 5k races and eventually the marathon. Yeah, I understand you’re busy with the plant business. How soon are you available? Sure, I can be in Urbana tomorrow afternoon.”
– To be continued…
