“Botendaddy. You look painfully thin, what do you weigh.”
Asked the punker-model-writer chick as we sat in the park. She had been scribbling in one of her writing-books. It sure was hot today.
“I weigh 239. I’m down 45 pounds. The equivalent of a forty-five pound weight plate. But I’m rather tall. Did you know that only 1.4% of American males are 6’2-1/2″ or taller? 1.4%. Essentially, no-one, who tells the truth about their height in America, is 6’3″ or taller, Statistically, they don’t exist. It’s beyond three standard deviations.”
“I’m 5’9″ that’s rare for a girl.”
“It’s about the same percentile range. About 2%.”
“That’s why you don’t look fat at 239. I weigh 120. It’s weird though. Boys my age hate me. They never talk to me. I’m not stand-offish, but I’ve always been awkward around boys. Everyone says that I’m quite pretty, but there’s something about my overall look that just does not work. Maybe that’s why I’m depressed all the time. I know no-one wants me. I know I’m not normal. Botendaddy? I have this one friend in New York. She must weigh 250. Guys just love her. They LOVE her and they hate me when I’m sitting right next to her. I don’t know why.”
“You know I walked 2.54 miles today in 88 degree heat. I burned 398 calories. If I do that every day, it’s a bonus of 2,800 calories per week in addition to my basal rate. No crazy workouts. No destructive running every day. Just walking. Slow burn equals fat burn. Plus maybe, just maybe, walking may counteract the effect of all this appetite, hormone, enzyme, glandular, starvation-mode crap they’ve been talking about. Plus, you can walk every single day. If you run every day or lift every day, your body can’t recover. Medical Anthropology. We humans used to be much more active in our life and work just to get through the day until relatively recently.
“Botendaddy. You aren’t listening to me. I asked why I’m so pretty and hot and nobody likes me.”
We sat on the grass. I did notice young men jogging by, turning to stare at her steel-grey eyes and bikini body, falling into bushes, others distracted by her beauty walked into light-posts. One young man, so enthralled, tripped on a wire and crashed through an array of filthy garbage cans.
“Listen PMWC. We are both New Yorkers, so we can talk. Very few people are popular and still have everyone love them. Sure if you’re good-looking, rich, famous, athletic, powerful it helps, but it is still no guarantee. Everyone looks for something different and sometimes, you just fall in between the cracks of everyone else’s preferences. It doesn’t mean you aren’t worthy, it just means you are unique and you have to wait for the right person. The wrong person would be hell on earth. Just strive to be a nice, good person that people would like. But keep the creepy murderous freaks at bay, of course.”
“Wow, thanks Shrek™, Quasimodo, Elephant Man, you’re such an expert on looks. You f&^cking, green-glowing, undead, smelly, sweaty, Frankenstein. You carnival side-show freak. You 1950’s Ed Wood-bad science-fiction-movie-alien-monster. Look at me. Look at my body! It should be a temple for the hottest men in the world, and I let you utterly defile me. It’s sickening, it’s atrocious, it’s so hot, I just 0r945m3d thinking about you pawing me, and injecting me with your horrific man-slime. God, I feel so dirty just sitting here with you. I bet all these young people, my fellow University students are judging me, saying look at her with that filthy, old, perverted, Aqualung™, decrepit, dead freak. I bet he slimed her, that shitty Svengali! Ah the taste of it! I am so ashamed. It’s so *hot* that they are judging me so harshly. I think I just peed.”
I put the brown army towel I usually wore around my shoulders to look cool under her soaking-wet, tasty, camel-toe to spare her some shame.
“Are you taking summer classes? Look, my dear, sweet, vicious, *hot* PMWC, it’s not that other exercise isn’t good. Plus, some people may have disabilities and can’t walk, which is why they should talk to their licensed physician before starting or changing any exercise program. Also, all vigorous exercise, by nature, requires a recovery period. You know, tear down, build up. It’s simple human biology. Walking requires less recovery”
The PMWC started writing in her black writer’s book again.
“Yes, Advanced English Lit, Advanced Creative Non-Fiction Writing. Anyway, where’s your dirty, stank Librarian wh$re? Did she go back to D.C. to spread more lies about me? More deceit? Ooh, god, I hate her! That filthy, lying, sl%t. I would like to run her over with a slow-moving steamroller, like in that annoying English Fish movie. She is so condescending at the writer’s workshop. She’s not a writer. I’m a writer. She’s a stupid twat who writes! How dare she touch you. Playing on your sympathies. How dare she! My eyes are prettier. My hair is natural dutch-blond. Look at my ass, it’s perfect. I want to sit my filthy ass-cracque on your ugly, deformed face until you appreciate what a gift it is. A gift you never deserved! Pearls before swine. God knows what color her smelly sn%*ch is, or her sh!tty armpits. I almost throw up every time I think about her. She makes me want to go back on my meds.”
“Right, so walking is the key. Don’t abandon the rest of your usual workout, just augment both your diet and your normal exercise routine with a little daily dose of walking! It’s the secret to sustain weight loss and helps plateau-breaking. But remember, never raise your calorie count to offset walking or other exercise program you are doing or you will lose in the end. Just make sure you talk to your Doctor or duly-licensed dietitian before any change to your caloric intake first, as you may have other health issues or medications that can affect you, especially in hot weather.”
She packed up her things. I helped her fold the towel, carefully hiding the stinky, tasty, delicious, aromatic soaking wet spot. She clung tightly to her writing book, clutching it against her chest. She looked pained, like she was going to cry.
“Right that’s really just so interesting, blah, blah, blah. I just actually peed down my leg while you were boring me into p!ss1ng myself. My condo is only a few blocks from here. We are going there right now and you are making love to me until I am fully defiled with your hideous, undulating body and I am utterly spent. I decide when you are done, freak! You owe me for making me listen to all of your stupid diet-exercise b&ll$hit. And most of all for pounding Miss Air-Force-Librarian-harlot-Jezebel again with your ginormous, aged monster. She’s just so superior to me. Just ask her, she’ll tell you. I’ll be writing about you…fat-boy! You can bet on it!”
I put her backpack over my shoulder and we walked past the museum.
Peace be the Botendaddy