Baxter ripped the ad from the cicular and nearly darted out of the door. Then, looking down, he noticed he might have to get dressed first. All he was wearing was a pair of boxer shorts. As he dressed his muscular body in a sleeveless shirt and a pair of khaki shorts, he imagined how much this medical research would rake in for him. Having graduated from college three months ago and not having found a job, he was desperate for any opportunity to earn a little extra cash. He was way behind on his rent and loan payments. Baxter needed a job so badly. There was no way he'd be asking his parents for money, that would be childish. If nothing else, he might be turning to stripping soon. With his body, that would be guaranteed income, but he wasn't ready to stoop to that level. Besides, being a stripper wouldn't get his old girlfriend Nancy back any time soon.
He threw on his ankle socks and a pair of Adidas sneakers and marched off to 1313 Forandring Street. This place was in the middle of the warehouse district and it was kind of odd for medical offices to be there. It was an old red brick industrial looking building from around the turn of the 20th century.
Baxter, gripping the torn piece of newspaper, took a deep breath and entered the building. "Here it goes," he thought.