Walking to my car, talking on the phone to John, a guy approaches me and hands me a card with a picture of a really buff shirtless guy on it. I look at it, look at him, it's him on the card.
"I'm a personal trainer," he tells me. "Give that to your friends. You don't need it. You, you look awesome."
I think it was some twisted sort of marketing technique, but I'll take that compliment any day of the week.