I’ve been steadily losing weight since 1996, when I peaked at 528 pounds. I hit a plateau or two along the way, but have been making slow but sure progress.
After surgery, I began wearing a back brace that also kept tummy flab (aka “meat apron” or “dicky-do”) up where it belonged. Soon I discovered that fat won’t climb uphill to lose itself, but will melt right off if it’s held up high enough long enough. I kept wearing the brace, and now the brace has gotten too small.
As Mizelle once teased me, “You’ve got a torso again!”
Clothes have always been troublesome. Once the internet and fat-sites popped up, stores caught on and you could buy fat clothes locally. It didn’t hurt that ‘Merika is getting fat in the ass. Used to be hard to find a shirt with an “X” in the size. Now you have multiple Xs, off the rack. Too bad they’re all cargo shorts and barber shirts.
The Brit-Floyd show is next week, and I wanted to find my concert tee from 1987, the Delicate Sound of Thunder tour. I paid $17 for it, and it was always too small. I figured I’d shrink into it someday. That was when I weighed 275.
Before I got fat.
I prowled the boxes. I found the safari vest I wore to Las Vegas, and tried it on. I could literally get two of me in there. I weighed 454 when I went to Vegas. I looked at the vest I wear today. 3 Xs smaller. And I swim in it.
While digging, I found pants I was ‘saving for a rainy day’. They were almost too big. I washed them and they go into the rotation today. Wear those bitches out before they fall off.
I found a dressy shirt I’d been saving for a wedding or a funeral. I tried it on. I looked like a little kid playing dress-up. The tag was still attached. $50. Ouch. I decided to take it (and my Fred Meyer Rewards coupons) to the store and see what I could get.
Since I had no receipt, and it had been more than three months, they gave me an in-store credit for the lowest price in the last 90 days. ($25.) Sigh. Oh, well.
Woohoo! The same shirt I exchanged was still on sale. I got one with only one X, a tall. Slimming and highlighting my newfound torso? I’ll take it! I found two more tee-shirts, in the “normal” sized mens department. By the time I’d used all coupons and credits, I walked out of Freddy’s with three new shirts for a total out-of-pocket cost of $1.43.
Oh, and I found the old Pink Floyd tee-shirt. I can still tell the girls, “I have tee-shirts older than you!”
It fits me better than ever. But it wears like a muscle shirt, and I still am more Michelin Man than Marlboro Man. I’ve got batwings and man-boobs, but so do a majority of the men my age. Call me fat. I will laugh. And in ten years, I will laugh at you when all that designer beer hits your waistline.
It’s time to show off…