Monday, October 6, 2008
So I’m in MD visiting Susan for the weekend. While here, I will be in charge of what else but a Fitness Party! Tonight I get to play skinny healthy person. Luckily I not only have the agenda to pull it off but the crazy workout regimen to back it up. The confusing part will come when they see me slamming beer and eating chips all while telling them they are lazy slackers who need to workout more and buy my products. Not to mention they get to stare at my big fat ass while I show them the life changing PowerPoint that I created. It hasn’t in fact changed my life but I’m a “special case” now aren’t I? I ride the short bus to fatville if you will. It would appear that my bus has a governor set at warp speed with a no return to skinnyville feature. On the flip side, I’m the thinnest one on the bus and I’m not required to wear a helmet. Fatties and helmets…not good. Fat neck rolls…unattractive.
Sometimes I think I’m the only one out there who has inappropriate relationships with people in the food industry. Susan has in fact proved me wrong. Let’s go there…so I arrived at Susan’s house late Sat. The plan was to order out and eat said food while lying on couch. Happens to be one of my favorite venues. While Susan was retrieving the food from the Asian delivery man, I was privy to some unusual banter. It went something like this: (Asian man) “Long time no see.” (Susan)”Yeah.” (Asian man) “Ok honey, have a good night.” Where to begin. (A.) The fact that he remembers Susan would indicate that she orders way to much Chinese food. (B.) He called her “honey.” Given the amount of money I spend on food and the fact that no one has ever called me “honey” is disturbing! Taking the evidence at face value one can only assume that Susan has been getting a little “beef” with her broccoli! All of this wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t shoving the skinny agenda down my throat 24/7! Bla bla we must hike, go to gym, eat bars instead of real meals and be healthy. I guess you can do that when you are banging the Chinese delivery man on the side! 1o minute!
Being with Susan is actually good for my health. Even before I pull into her parking space she has whole agendas that involve me not eating and not napping. It’s like a trip to the fat farm disguised as fun. She’ll allow drinking from time to time but you better be up at the crack of dawn ready to function. Today is in fact “Bring your friend to work day.” We’ve declared it as such bcs Susan in fact borrows Internet from her neighborhood which doesn’t work well with the banking laptop. Not that I have any banking to do but appearances are everything. So I’m here in corporate land mingling with the movers and shakers. We did the early morning gym workout, showered with the ladies who never shave their bush and then swapped parking garages to arrive at said destination exactly 1 hour after the hard working people. Here in the real world you can’t even enter an office without a super secret code…very scary. Once you have broken the code, you enter the land of 40 flavors of coffee, water and 15 kinds of tea. If that isn’t enough, there’s a massage room and some sort of game room. Translation…you will be at work for a VERY LONG TIME and we recognize the need to entertain you so that you don’t come back with your 9 and kill all of us. Or something to that effect. Who wants to get caught playing Guitar Hero between 8-5? Not me….I’ll be in the kitchen with the vending machine.
So my plan is to “work” from 9:15 to 12:00 at which time the militant diet master will be taking me to the California Pizza Kitchen. That’s almost a three hour stretch without food. I hope I can make it. I’ve been holding in my pee for fear of forgetting the super secret bathroom code and being trapped in the hall with the commoners. I could starve out there before Susan finds me. She offered to loan me her GPS so that I could roam around the big city and find my way back to militant diet central. I may need the GPS to get from the kitchen to my cube. Yes, I have my very own cube. I can’t actually see anyones face, I can’t see the outside and I hear voices. Lots of voices. I’m am oppressed in cube land. In my keen analysis of the various people that work here, I’ve identified a keeper. Lots of activity flowing from her cube. I like her. If I needed a job (which I very well may) she would be the one chosen to pimp my wears. One of those that could make a Lean Cuisine sound like fine dining at it’s best. Perhaps I will grow so accustomed to my life as a cube dweller that I won’t eat, sleep or leave. Ever. Yeah that’s not happening. Within a week my cube would be filled with crumbs, wrappers and empty Diet Coke bottles. I don’t do cubes. Ice cubes yes.
It’s almost FGLH. You can imagine my angst. I need a break from the voices. Being a cube dweller is hard work. Maybe I’ll have to get an appetizer to make me feel better. Then our day will end abruptly at 1pm to prepare for the fraudulent fitness party. I’ll need to find something to wear that hides the lies. Can’t be sure how I’ll pull that off. Lots of me standing with my back to the wall I suppose. At an angle works best bcs the thighs look better when they aren’t casting shadows. It’s never a good thing when there’s a giant shadow of my ass covering the slide noting my commitment to health and fitness. Scary. Alright I’m outa here. It’s way to close to FGLH to function.