Scared Into Anorexia

Every truck stop has a scale in the bathroom; the kind that gives your weight and lucky numbers all at once.

The scale is almost always wrong, off by as much as ten or more pounds, but on occassion you'll get a good one and it'll get close to what you know is your real weight so you can have somewhat of an idea as to whether or not you need to cut back on the lattes.

This weekend I came across one of those scales; I put in my quarter, stood very still (as they request on the screen) and waited for my weight to register. It takes a few minutes and many blinky lights before it displays your weight...

511.6 pounds.

WHAT???? I can handle five or ten pounds off, but hundreds????? I stood there looking at the screen in such a daze, that I forgot to jot down my lucky numbers. Shit, who needs lucky numbers when you can enter yourself in a livestock auction??

I immediately decided I wanted my money back, so I went to the counter and spoke to the shift manager. I approached her with a serious face, asking "Are you the manager??"

"Yeesss." she answered hesitantly, most likely anticipating the verbal assault she usually has to endure from cranky truckers.

"Well," I said "I know I'm a big girl and all, but I just used the bathroom scale and it told me I weighed 511.6 pounds. I'm kinda thinkin' I want my quarter back."

She immediately laughed, stated she will put an "out of order" sign on it right away and before she walked off, opened the register and handed me my quarter.

Lately, I've been putting off the start of my diet and exercise plan by coming up with some very good and very creative excuses. Lame, I admit, but perfectly adequate stall devices as far as I'm concerned. But, after this scare, I'm definitely starting tomorrow.

From this point on, it's Saltines, diet coke and cigarettes for me!