Hold that Line! Hold that Line!

I stepped on the scale in the bank lobby the other day, and watched the dial jump to the right. “What the hell? 181 pounds? That’s it! I am holding the line,” I said. I heard the faint tee-heeing of laughter, but from where? I glanced around the bank lobby. A few customers lined up at the ATM machine a short distance away, but they looked totally serious. A security guard, pistol strapped to his waist, sat across the lobby. He looked like he had never laughed in his life.

I heard faint, high pitched peals of laughter again. I stared at the face of scale. No way! Was the laughter coming from the scale? To test my ridiculous theory, I said “There is no way I am gaining another pound!” The laughter got louder, and was clearly coming from the scale! “OK, scale, what is up with that?” The scale stopped laughing, and said “Oh, that’s rich! You’re not gaining another pound? Check your calendar. Do you know what time of year it is?”

“It doesn’t matter what time of year it is! I have gained eight pounds since running the Country Music Half-Marathon last April, and that is enough. I am holding the line!” (“I can’t believe I am talking to a scale in a public place,” I thought to myself.)

“Yeah, and I’m Santa Claus,” the scale said, laughing at its own joke. “You would not believe how many people say that to me at this time of year. But they forget about holiday parties, Christmas cookies, eggnog, family get-togethers, and pumpkin pie. How much pumpkin pie did you have recently?”

“Quite a bit, actually. That’s one of the many reasons I have gained this weight. But enough is enough. I am stopping this weight gain, and will start to reverse it,” I said. I thought of all of the extra deserts lately, munching on cookies or candy people bring into work, Thanksgiving dinner, a drink here and there, a few more meals at restaurants recently – often with a tempting desert. It all just adds up, an ounce or two at a time. I thought of how much more tightly my pants have been fitting. Jeans that were very comfortable a few months ago were now quite snug. Clearly, either some practical jokester is swapping my pants out in the middle of the night, or I have gained not just weight but inches. As a reflex to this thought, I sucked in my stomach.

“That won’t help,” the scale said. “Suck in your stomach or not, you still weigh 181 pounds.” Resigned, I relaxed my stomach. Suddenly, the button on my pants flew off, striking the bank window like a rifle shot. A customer screamed, several of them started to go to the floor, and the guard started to pull out his revolver. He quickly realized what had happened and began laughing. “Great,” I thought to myself. “He has a sense of humor after all.”

Around this time, several of the bank’s customers had noted that I was talking to no one in particular, looked at my ear to see if I had a Blue Tooth, and seeing none, began to look a bit nervous. So I stepped off the scale and headed outside. Damn! The last time I weighed myself I was around 178 or 179, and I resolved to get down to 176 or so for my class reunion. So much for that! It is now time to get serious about this – to stop eating as much - Christmas or not – and to start working out again. Mr. Scale, next time you see me, I will have the last laugh. I resolve not to go over 181 by the first of the year. I will hold the line, and ultimately, I will lose the extra weight. I hitched my belt tight to make up for the missing button, and got back to work. Hey, who brought the lemon poppy-seed cake in? Well, one piece won’t hurt….