Weighing In

I am overweight. Of all the members of my household, my bathroom scale is the most aware of this fact. It is aware of it, because I frequently hoist my girth upon it and ask it a simple question.

"Have I lost some of me?"
"No. You seem to have found more of you."

Apparently over the years it has begun to see a pattern. If I go up. I get on it again, just to be sure.

"Are you positive?"
"I just went pee..."
"Did you pee for 4 minutes straight?"
"Then you didn't lose anything."
"What if I take off my socks"
"Seriously. Your socks?"
"I just shaved. Did I lose weight?"
"Please go away."

I suppose that could get to someone. Even a inanimate object someone that was purchased on sale with a deep discount coupon. Not only were we unwilling to pay full price for this thing but then I give it nothing but garbage everyday. I'm sure it was ready to crack under the strain. Heavy metaphors acknowledged and intended.

This morning I got on the scale to begin the usual number dance. I get on, then get off to zero out the number and try to trick the scale into believing a near weightless straw man just mounted it's apparatus.


I then mount again, now knowing that I will get an accurate reading of my 'real' weight and not a fable predicated by this obviously biased balance. Somehow the scale knows it's me. Then something staggering happened. A number flashed on the screen that almost gave me a heart attack.

I was shown a figure I hadn't seen since my first year in college. It was the only time in my adult life that I ever felt comfortable with my weight. I looked just like everyone else. I wore a medium sized Nike warm up outfit and didn't look like a banana ready to burst at the seams. I washed my jeans every two days, because I disliked the baggy feeling they got in the waist. I recall that weight quite well, and I'm pretty sure I wasn't there this morning. It was a bold move by the scale, and I did not buy it.

I headed out to the living room to see Patricia.

"I think we need a new scale."
"I just lost 56.2 lbs"

She was so excited she ran to the bathroom to see how much flattery the scale would bestow on her.

"I didn't lose anything. I agree. Pitch it."


Tina said...

your scale doesn't know that you are overweight because your scale doesn't know how tall you are. Tell your scale that you are 6'8".

And don't throw that one away; send it to me. If I lost 56 pounds I'd be smokin' hot.

Tony said...

Your scale seems rather verbose to me. All any scale has ever said to me is "People, please! One at a time!"

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