Thursday, 20 November 2008

The first step of the long surrender.....

I was chatting with Dances with Glue, one of my more regular customers, on Tuesday night about this, that, and the other. She gets her name due to her fondness for handicrafts and that sort of thing. Practically everything she was wearing had been handmade or altered or had something garish sewn into to it, from the crocheted coin purse with "attractive" frog on it to the wooly cigarette case adorned with sunny flowers. Yes because putting them in to a wooly "sock" makes them less deadly. Honestly birthday gifts from her must just be a delightful surprise, delightful like diarrhea.

mirror mirror on the wall
who's the grumpiest of them all....

We were just shooting the breeze whilst we waited for the kitchen to bodge together her tagliatelle. And when it comes to pasta they always bodge it together. It's as if they must leave it under the hot lamps for a minute or two before they send it, just so that it develops a nice thick skin. We were discussing all manner of nonsense from the state of the world to her difficulty in acquiring cheap fuzzy felt when she turned the conversation to my not smoking. We had enjoyed numerous conversations in the past about the best places to go for a smoke when in town and the rights of smokers in general. Obviously she knew I had quit.

"So how's it going then, cracked up yet?", she inquired with her usual forwardness.

"No, I feel fine. Eating a lot of fruit and nuts and that sort of thing."

"You've been eating a lot of something that's for sure" says she and pokes me with her pinky.

Obviously I was taken aback at her impertinent remark and assault on my pudgy person. I was at a loss for a good comeback. I did consider asking about her boyfriend who had recently done one but didn't. Familiarity does indeed breed contempt, and a waiter poked with a sharp little pinky is a waiter who will hold your pasta under the hot lamps until it has a skin thicker than a rhino. I was annoyed for the rest of the night. Mainly because it's true.

You see your average French waiter is tall, model tall with Bowie-esque cheekbones and has the ability to stare down at his own feet without having to both suck and push in his tum tum. This was particularly the case at the fancy Cafe Marly at the Louvre. Crikey they were better dressed than I was on the morning of my wedding, and none of them bore a haunting look of impending doom. Still I've always thought the staff shouldn't look better than the guests. The only way for that to happen with these guys is if a bus run of lovelies from the planet of beautiful people show up.

I was considering this and Dances with Glue's fickle fat pointing finger whilst staring at myself in the mirror on Tuesday night. Believe me this isn't something I do often. I normally throw a shirt over the looking glass to shield myself from the horror it reflects. This has been a tactic that has served me, if not the general public, well over the years as I've grown from a waif like teenager to a bald 36 year old with a spread more generous than your average deli counter. Little Miss Manuel enjoyed the view though, shit I think I went a bit gay for them too....for a bit.

Like watching a good car crash or Kerry Katona on a daytime TV show it was hard for me to take my eyes off the grotesque reflection. How it had happened was not in question, a fondness for pies, cakes and all the wonders of the pig. Why it happened was not in question, greed and the folly of youth. Ah I think back with fondness to the halcyon carefree days of last year when I could eat, drink, and smoke what I wanted without worrying about whether it was likely to keep me up all night with indigestion. Those days are over. How am I gonna shift it and return this once wondrous body (Ha! LMM) to it's former svelte like condition, now that is a question.

Eventually I gave up trying to suck my paunch back inside my body whilst trying to imagine what I might look like after some intensive dieting and climbed into bed with two mini twister lollies and a half bag of minstrels. As I lay in the dark developing strategies to lose weight without having to give up any of my favourite foods and eating habits or having to exercise I got a nasty case of heartburn. Christ the world is out to get me. I tossed and turned and beat my chest and in the end I had to get up again.

So as I sat on my bed in the dark with the light from the modem flickering off my hairy legs trying to belch the pain away I realised that this was only the beginning, the first step of the long surrender. Soon I will be one of those men who has to pop twenty pills in the morning just to keep his bowels under control and I'll have to takes swigs from a bottle of Milk of Magnesia after every meal as I complain about, "my guts." All my food will be boiled or steamed and be devoid of all flavour. And butter will be treated like my own personal kryptonite. I'll wanna order a rare steak with chips and LMM will suggest the "heart healthy" fish that comes with nothing but derision and dirty looks from the waiter.

Fuck I cant be arsed with getting old and having to change my ways. If anybody needs me I'll be eating butter straight from the tub and throwing hand grenades at the pretty thin people.

Or of course I could not overreact and maybe I should just not let Dances with Glue back in again........

28 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

Medbh said...

Fuck her, Manuel.
Just think of all the tar in her lungs and the hideous clothes she wears. Those "craft" people must all be mentalists because they can't sit still and think for a minute.
She uses the glue gun to stop the voices in her head.

Manuel said...

medbh: bwahahahha that made me spit tea....yeah but I am gonna take it one life altering change at a time......

savannah said...

She uses the glue gun to stop the voices in her head.

hilarious!

one thing at a time, sugar, one thing at a time! xoxoxo

Manuel said...

savannah: it's the only way

daisyfae said...

shame you couldn't poke her in the lung and ask how her capillary sacks are holdin' up...

it's winter, heading into the holidays. worst time to worry about your weight. that's what new years resolutions are for!

Waiter Extraordinaire said...

I am with the glue gun to stop the voices in her head. You should have just let a wee tiny fart go at that moment and said oh that must be the pears I have been eating.That might have made her never to return..

Masquerade said...

I think you're doing GREAT With not smoking. It's fantastic that you want to change but do one thing at a time. Trying to lose weight AND not smoke will make your little bald head explode. ^_^

Silverstar said...

I'm with Daisy Fae, no dieting on the holidays. We need the fat to get through the rest of the winter. That's why our bodies put it on this time of year. But there's always the New Year...

Old Knudsen said...

Ach ya fat fucker stop throwing grenades at me.

Red hair, Red face said...

That shit pisses me off, Aquaintances (forgive my poor spelling) passing remarks on your appearance. FUCK HER MANUEL! Jesus I'll be in a rage for the morning over that. How did you not pull out the stabbing fork?!

harried_dad said...

I wouldn't eat the butter straigt from the tub. I prefer to microzap it first so that I can drink it from the tub instead.

sheepworrier said...

I know a fella who could be referred to as dances with glue, but that usually involves a plastic bag and random violence.

You could try and go for wee danders if you're looking to counteract the weight gain from quitting, now that your lungs will be up to it? What about giving up the taxi's?

Conan Drumm said...

I'm with Sheepo, if you can walk to and/or from work it would make a difference.

It's great that you're still off them.

Manuel said...

daisy: soon I'll have nothing to look forward to but pears.......

steve: manuel doesn't do tiny farts.....I do man sized rippers....

masquerade: yes.....yes you are right.....I should smoke again

silverstar: meh.....but I don't want to

old k: in yer dreams skinny lad

red hair: the stabbing fork was removed due to an incident......kids no sense of humour.....

dad: nice......touch of class

sheepo: give up taxis? are you on crack? I supporting a whole industry with my laziness

conan: as above.....

red leeroy said...

bah, she probably sits in her own faeces while sowing frogs onto her labia. Let HER eat cake. Your doing great. Stay off the smokes.

Manuel said...

red leeroy: yes but I want to have my cake and smoke it......

sheepworrier said...

Manuel: Its either do a bit of exercise or end up as the main attraction at Star Wars conventions as a Jabba the Hut looky-likey. Actually fuggit - that sounds like fun!

Manuel said...

sheepo: if only my doctor spoke with such frankness.....

Lottie said...

Don't mind her. And pass me a grenade! Skinny cow at 10 o'clock.

Manuel said...

lottie: here....have a case.....

AnFearBui said...

Dances with Glue = treehugger
Add superglue & tree
No more dancing by dances with Glue
or paunch poking = happier Manuel

Manuel said...

anfearbui: bwahahahaha that's a cracker!

Native Minnow said...

There's only one way to lose wait without dieting or exercising. You, my friend, need to get yourself a tapeworm.

Native Minnow said...

Make that "lose weight" - I'm such an idiot.

Also, I first read 'crocheted' as 'crotched' and I have to say, a crotched coin purse takes on a whole new meaning.

Manuel said...

minnow: tapeworm eh......lovely idea....cant see a problem with that at all

paddy said...

hang in there mate. As a particularly rotund doorman who used to work for me says to people who comment on his weight - "You know why I'm fat? Because I eat a cookie everytime I fuck your mother."

MikeTheWaiterDotCom said...

Well, Manuel, you got to realize that in the biz we are in, pies, creme brulees, fried calamaris...and my personal favorite, kahlua with vodka ... are all just an arm's length away. These are truly industrial hazards! But we are warm in the winter and cool in the hot summers and we eat well and drink well. Life is good... :)

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