Zodiac Weight Loss was being peddled by chattering, smiling sales representatives: Hollywood Hills, Catfish Soup (no, I’m not kidding), Citrus Fruit, Herbs for Loss, Nutri Management, and Soy Solutions, just to name a few.
The first speaker was an overweight, middle-aged woman from a company called Trim ’n’ Glam. Before she even opened her mouth, I knew her product wasn’t any good; otherwise, she would’ve been skinny herself.
Next, a crunchy-granola type took the stage and spent twenty minutes showing slides about an herbal colon cleanser. Aunt Mary was so grossed out she went to wait in the lobby. After that, the director of a place called Dairy Details took the podium. “At Dairy Details we explore the effects of calcium on fat,” he explained. “We have a tightly controlled setting where we monitor very closely what goes into our clients’ bodies and what comes out of their bodies.”
What comes out? I elbowed Mother. “What does he mean by that?” I whispered.
“I don’t care to know,” Mother mumbled.
Finally, in the middle of a sermon (and I mean that literally) about a weight loss plan called Thin for God, Mother motioned toward the door. “You wanna go?” she whispered. I nodded vigorously.
The drive home was quiet. Sullen Aunt Mary stared at the road and said nothing to Mother or to me. I could tell she was furious that she’d wasted her money. She pulled up in front of our house. Quickly, Mother got out of the car. “Thanks, Mary,” Mother called, waving her sister off as she headed toward the door. Obviously, Mother is much better at reading her sister’s bad moods. Fool that I am, I lagged behind. Even though I resented Aunt Mary for buying the stupid tickets in the first place, and I had tried to tell her we shouldn’t go, I knew she couldn’t afford to waste $150 on nothing. “Thanks for trying, Aunt Mary,” I said. “Sorry you wasted your money.”
Aunt Mary rolled her eyes and tapped the steering wheel with her pointy red nails. “Do you realize I could’ve had Tom Cruise declawed with that money?” she said. Tom Cruise is Aunt Mary’s cat. I couldn’t help thinking Aunt Mary should’ve had herself declawed. “Why can’t you just lose weight, Rosie? I mean, is it so hard just to stop doing this?” she asked, moving her hand back and forth from an imaginary plate to her mouth.
“So it’s my fault the conference was a rip-off?” I replied.
“No. But it’s your fault we had to go to a conference in the first place. I’m not saying I don’t understand why you gained weight. I mean, your life hasn’t exactly been perfect. No father, a young single mother who works too much . . . but you could just get a grip on yourself, you know, find a hobby .” The h in hobby came out as if Aunt Mary were loosening something stuck in her throat. I no longer cared that she’d wasted her precious money. I just wanted her to drive away into the darkness and never come back.
“Rosie, come on inside!” Mother called from the porch.
“You’re not so perfect yourself,” I said. “But you don’t see me criticizing you all the time. Those hideous plastic nails, for one thing. I could say plenty about those. And your love life. I mean, I’m fat, so it’s obvious why I don’t have a boyfriend, but what’s your excuse?” Aunt Mary’s jaw dropped.
“You’re disrespectful,” she said. It came out in a whisper.
“So are you,” I replied. For all her dishing out, Aunt Mary certainly couldn’t take it. I had plenty more to say, but I stopped myself. Instead, I slammed the car door and stormed off toward the house. Aunt Mary zoomed up Stewart Street and squealed tires as she made the left onto Third Avenue. “Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath. Mother was standing beneath the porch light, her face an eerie shade of jaundiced yellow in its glow. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she was disappointed in me.
“Sorry,” I said when we were
The first speaker was an overweight, middle-aged woman from a company called Trim ’n’ Glam. Before she even opened her mouth, I knew her product wasn’t any good; otherwise, she would’ve been skinny herself.
Next, a crunchy-granola type took the stage and spent twenty minutes showing slides about an herbal colon cleanser. Aunt Mary was so grossed out she went to wait in the lobby. After that, the director of a place called Dairy Details took the podium. “At Dairy Details we explore the effects of calcium on fat,” he explained. “We have a tightly controlled setting where we monitor very closely what goes into our clients’ bodies and what comes out of their bodies.”
What comes out? I elbowed Mother. “What does he mean by that?” I whispered.
“I don’t care to know,” Mother mumbled.
Finally, in the middle of a sermon (and I mean that literally) about a weight loss plan called Thin for God, Mother motioned toward the door. “You wanna go?” she whispered. I nodded vigorously.
The drive home was quiet. Sullen Aunt Mary stared at the road and said nothing to Mother or to me. I could tell she was furious that she’d wasted her money. She pulled up in front of our house. Quickly, Mother got out of the car. “Thanks, Mary,” Mother called, waving her sister off as she headed toward the door. Obviously, Mother is much better at reading her sister’s bad moods. Fool that I am, I lagged behind. Even though I resented Aunt Mary for buying the stupid tickets in the first place, and I had tried to tell her we shouldn’t go, I knew she couldn’t afford to waste $150 on nothing. “Thanks for trying, Aunt Mary,” I said. “Sorry you wasted your money.”
Aunt Mary rolled her eyes and tapped the steering wheel with her pointy red nails. “Do you realize I could’ve had Tom Cruise declawed with that money?” she said. Tom Cruise is Aunt Mary’s cat. I couldn’t help thinking Aunt Mary should’ve had herself declawed. “Why can’t you just lose weight, Rosie? I mean, is it so hard just to stop doing this?” she asked, moving her hand back and forth from an imaginary plate to her mouth.
“So it’s my fault the conference was a rip-off?” I replied.
“No. But it’s your fault we had to go to a conference in the first place. I’m not saying I don’t understand why you gained weight. I mean, your life hasn’t exactly been perfect. No father, a young single mother who works too much . . . but you could just get a grip on yourself, you know, find a hobby .” The h in hobby came out as if Aunt Mary were loosening something stuck in her throat. I no longer cared that she’d wasted her precious money. I just wanted her to drive away into the darkness and never come back.
“Rosie, come on inside!” Mother called from the porch.
“You’re not so perfect yourself,” I said. “But you don’t see me criticizing you all the time. Those hideous plastic nails, for one thing. I could say plenty about those. And your love life. I mean, I’m fat, so it’s obvious why I don’t have a boyfriend, but what’s your excuse?” Aunt Mary’s jaw dropped.
“You’re disrespectful,” she said. It came out in a whisper.
“So are you,” I replied. For all her dishing out, Aunt Mary certainly couldn’t take it. I had plenty more to say, but I stopped myself. Instead, I slammed the car door and stormed off toward the house. Aunt Mary zoomed up Stewart Street and squealed tires as she made the left onto Third Avenue. “Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath. Mother was standing beneath the porch light, her face an eerie shade of jaundiced yellow in its glow. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she was disappointed in me.
“Sorry,” I said when we were
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