I knew this day was coming. I guess it was inevitable. Yep, it’s time again to go on a diet and get in shape. Not, mind you, that I really need to. I looked in the mirror, and quite frankly, I see a budding movie star. Well, that is, if they decide to remake Bonanza, and they haven’t yet found someone to play Hoss Cartwright.
Yes, all the tell-tale signs have occurred. You know, pants a little tight at the waist, T-shirts a little snug, and women coming up to me at the mall and rubbing my stomach saying “Have you found out whether it’s a boy or a girl, yet?” I always respond, “We think it is a 12-pack of Miller Light, but we’ve decided not to find out and just let it be a surprise.”
The first week or so things looked pretty good. Cut back on what you’re eating and jog a little each day. I lost six pounds in eight days and I’m off to the races. Day nine, however, I decided to order lunch at Hardee’s. I made this decision because Hardee’s is under new management. Well, actually, new management came about two years ago, but for Dawson, two years is sort of new. We still have appliance stores which advertise stereos with new Hi-Fi systems.
I would not have gone to Hardee’s if it were under old management. Under old management, ordering food was like playing Russian roulette with a revolver which had five of six chambers filled with a bullet. I would always order something I did not want, figuring the odds would at least be that occasionally I would get what I did want. Because, the only certainty was that whatever order you placed, you were guaranteed not to receive. Thankfully, new management guarantees you get what you order.
I was steadfast in my resolve that I would order healthy from Hardee’s. I am sure that you are already aware that Hardee’s offers a varied menu of low-calorie, health-conscious meals such as the thick burger, 32 ounce milkshakes, or a 1,000 calorie french fry meal. But I was resolved to order only a chicken sandwich. Nothing else.
I came to the drive-in window and ordered one charbroiled chicken sandwich, please, and nothing else. The voice came back, “Would you like the meal deal with the order?” Before I knew it, my mouth had been hijacked by fat cells swimming around my love handles and I responded by stating, “Yes.” “Would you like to make this a large order as well?”
By now, the judgment part of my brain was tied and shackled in a dungeon somewhere below my belly button. I enthusiastically said “Yes!” In ten minutes, I had devoured a chicken sandwich, large order of fries, and a sweet tea. My fat cells brought out the marching band and held a ticker tape parade.
Oh well, everyone slips every now and then. I got up the next morning and weighed ten pounds more than I had two days before. Who knew. One Hardee’s french fry equals one mile of jogging. Back to the drawing board.
Maybe old management will return to Hardee’s. That way, when I order a chicken sandwich, they will give me a fish sandwich instead. I hate fish sandwiches and so my diet will be successful.
Contact columnist T. Gamble at firstname.lastname@example.org.