Amanda Serrano is 33 years old and has never owned a cellphone. She has never been on a date. She claims “no friends” beyond her close-knit family. She does have social media accounts but doesn’t run them, save for the occasional check-in on a borrowed device. And, inside this mundane world she has created, she names but two vices: watching movies and shopping. Even then, her preferred store is Amazon’s website.
“I’m probably going to beat the 40-year-old virgin,” she says with a laugh over a Zoom call.
Serrano is a walking, punching, abstaining contradiction. A series of them, in fact. The human—daughter, sister, Prime delivery devotee—describes herself as “boring.” The professional boxer—42-1-1, 30 knockouts, champion in seven weight divisions—is a thunderous in-ring stalker who so acutely disfigured her last opponent’s face she “felt bad” for how she won.
