 | |
| |
Short Stories Humor A Gift For Skinny
|
|
|
A Gift For Skinny |
|
| Written by William Quam | |
| Monday, 03 March 2008 | |
A Gift for Skinny
I've always been one who is suspicious of people bearing gifts for no reason. I'm a firm believer in giving gifts for Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, even Earth Day for god's sake. But I swear that when I've received gifts over the years for no reason whatsoever, I've had the uncanny ability to actually see the strings attached to the gift. So you can imagine why I was a bit suspicious when my wife, who was my fiancé at the time, called me into the parking lot of our Atlanta apartment to show me a big surprise that was sitting in the trunk of her car. As it turned out, the surprise was two boxes containing a weightlifting bench and 180lbs. of free weights. And yes, I was surprised. As I stared at the contents of the trunk, trying to comprehend their meaning, Cheryl looked at me and calmly stated, "I'm sorry, but I am not going to marry a "stick-man." I had plenty of time to digest that statement as I carried the bench and the weights up to our apartment, ten pounds at a time.
Since I was an infant, my body has been rail thin. My mother has told the same story of my birth about a thousand times. She claims that while she held me as a newborn in her arms, she overheard two nurses behind a curtain describing me as the longest, thinnest, bird-like baby they had ever seen. The nurses, while laughing hysterically, christened me "bird boy," causing my mother to cry. My mother always ends the story by claiming that she didn't care what I looked like, she loved me anyway. In other words, I received my first "back-handed" compliment at the age of 36 hours old.
Throughout my childhood, I ate like a starving horse, but had the metabolism of a hummingbird. Nothing would stick to my bones. I earned a place at the "big folks table" during the holidays by the age of five. Not because of witty repartee or my views on Viet Nam mind you, but because I ate like an adult. I still have a photo of myself taken at age ten, digging on the beach on all fours in Florida. Most people describe me in that photo as looking like a greyhound, except that my ribs protruded just a bit more. I looked like the offspring of Olive Oyl and the winner of the sixth race at Hialeah Dog Park. As I left for college, I planned to re-package myself as "skinny chic," in the mold of rock stars Mick Jagger, David Bowie and Steven Tyler. Unfortunately, the college girls came to know me affectionately as "Q-Tip" or "Pipe Cleaner." Those were the nicknames given to me by my brawny college pals.
As I assembled the weight bench in the spare bedroom, I mulled over the years of skinny baggage. I was really in a quandary. Should I take my fiancé's advice and bulk up? I was totally new at this game so I figured it would take two, maybe three years before I could wrest the title of Mr. Universe from Schwarzenegger or comfortably wear a Speedo by the pool. But on the flip-side, I would be setting a dangerous precedent by letting Cheryl change me from boney to beef-cake. Where would it end? In five or ten years I might be giving up football Saturdays to attend poetry slams or garden tours. And what about the comment she made in the parking lot? I never handed her a bucket of silicone while saying, "I'm sorry, but I am not going to marry a perky A-cup." This was a tough decision worthy of King Solomon or perhaps even Judge Judy.
After assembling the bench, I moved it into our bedroom. I could tell that Cheryl was very pleased. She probably envisioned herself lying on the bed, being fed grapes while watching her sweaty hunk bench-press twice his weight. Those dreams quickly turned into soiled underwear. Specifically, they turned into the dirty Fruit-of-the-Looms that I draped on the bench before I went to bed. The next night, more underwear and socks were draped on the bench. On the third night, I hung a pair of tighty-whities with a skid mark that any man would have been proud of. When Cheryl finally asked me when I planned to use the weight bench, I replied that I was using it. And I thanked her again for the gift. I continued to toss dirty undergarments on the bench until the bench and the weights became a forbidden topic of conversation.
It was about the time that Cheryl threatened to return the bench and the free weights that I finally caved in and began pumping that iron. After going through the muscle soreness, the protein shakes and the realization that I was never going to look like Arnold, I started to enjoy it. That was twenty years ago and I've never quit. Cheryl got what she wanted. She didn't end up married to a "stick-man." I got what I wanted. I ended up putting 35lbs. on my scrawny frame. For the record, the weight training was the first, but not the last lifestyle change requested by my wife. I've been asked (and agreed) to quit smoking cigarettes, to learn how to cook, to pitch in with the gardening, to place my dirty clothes in the hamper and to attend an occasional poetry slam, ballet performance and home and garden tour. However, I'm still hanging on to my college football Saturdays. For now.
Comments (10) |
 03-03-2008 21:00, Whipped! just joking that was an enjoyable story » Reply to this comment...  03-03-2008 22:44, here is the thing that bothers me about buying weights and a bench. the bench comes in one box - to be assembled into one product. the weights come in one box to be applied a necessary. I believe, if you can get that box of weights out to your car and then into your house - you really did not need the weights after all... great story, by the way. » Reply to this comment...  03-04-2008 07:42, i enjoyed reading ....that was good story and well written....tahnks » Reply to this comment...  03-04-2008 08:38, Very cute and well written story. » Reply to this comment...  03-04-2008 08:52, Hey tarhead...unless you carry the weights in one at a time. » Reply to this comment... 03-04-2008 10:22, at the time I was not that smart... about a year later I went into boot camp... from 120 to 165 in 13 weeks... funny how that works - never stopped playing with free weights, incorporated it into my job. » Reply to this comment...  03-06-2008 14:50, Nice job. Funny as hell. "...bucket of silicone?" Great job. » Reply to this comment... 03-07-2008 19:00, A friend of mine has the same problem, she eats like horse but still looks like an anorexic chic. Interesting story » Reply to this comment... 03-08-2008 16:44, I have been reading all your stories. But if I get another "humor" one, even if it's as good as this one, I'll quit. Just kidding. :) Nice story. » Reply to this comment...  03-09-2008 15:40, was EXCELLENT. Loved it. Funny and all around great. » Reply to this comment... |
| Only registered users can comment. Please login or register. |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
Stumble
Reddit
Technorati
Digg
