Losing the Goo

My doctor has been after me for years to go to Weight Watchers to loose weight. She swears by the program as do a lot of people. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t go with an open mind. But at any rate, here’s the letter I wrote her after I checked it out.

Dear Patty,

I won’t see you for a while so I wanted to let you know that I checked out Weight Watchers just as I promised.

It was a very interesting meeting and I’m really glad I went. I’d had a bad day having lost two patients that meant a lot to me and was really wishing it wasn’t so late in the day because I needed supervision. I decided to swing by the Weight Watchers office to see if I could attend a meeting for a distraction or maybe even a little amusement.

A little lady in her 70’s met me at the door and invited me to stay for the meeting and if I wanted to join, I could sign up and pay at the end. I took her up on it and the room eventually filled with all sorts of people (mostly women). The lady in her bright yellow shorts and blouse eventually went to the front of the room where she began cavorting around the room grinning so broadly that I thought her nicotine-stained teeth would flash a welcome sign. Her voice was that of a long-time smoker and sounded like sandpaper on a rock. “Hi every body!” She graveled.

“Hi Zoe.” The crowd cheered back

“Why’s everybody so grim? Come ON people – I mean REALLY…. Did somebody DIE?” (I started to raise my hand and say with a cheery voice – “Yeah, Zoe – wanna list?” But I didn’t, I just flinched.)

“Well, we have a WINNER tonight! Come on up, Karen! She’s a 10 percenter! Yeaaaaaaaa! Everybody give her a hand. Yeaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Zoe’s face was forced into a game show host’s smile that utilized every crack in her nicotine-thickened epidermis. She smacked her hands together with her fingers all splayed, her hands vibrating out a fleshy tattoo that matched her cracked and yellowed grin in an odd Stephen King sort of way.

Zoe went around the room handing out a generous smattering of plastic gizmos and sticky stars to reward the crowd for whatever she thought might generate a “yeaaaaaaa” from the group like a second grade teacher. I should have been nauseated by this time but I found the whole thing kind of amusing that the room was full of adults who paid to be there and seemed to be caught up in getting gold stars for “only gaining .8”

She started on the other side of the room. “Do we have any celebrations in this section?”

“Zoe,” one girl spoke up, “I graduated from college last Friday.” Zoe sucked air and covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers.

“You did? Isn’t that WONDERFUL! Come ON everybody! Yeaaaaaaaaaaa! (smack, smack, smack, smack, smack)” Zoe ceremoniously tore off another star and handed it to the young woman. One section at a time, Zoe made her way around the room, not hearing a damn thing anybody said except what she could turn into a cheap cheer with her prancing and gooey demeanor.

“Everybody. This is Ken. He’s our guest tonight and a hospice employee. Hospice people are soooooo wonderful! I just love them. Lets welcome him. Yeeaaaaaaaa! (smack, smack, smack). Oops, you know what? I left something in the back room! I’ll go get it!”

Zoe disappeared stage right and reappeared with a miniature basketball and a swimming pool noodle. “I brought these things out so that we could talk about something very special tonight (her voice lowered dramatically so that it sounded like it was grating on a bigger rock). Do you remember when you were 7 and you played? What did you play when you were 7?” She pointed to one of the three men in the room.

“I played soccer.”

“I played softball” one woman volunteered.

“I rode bikes.” Another said.

“OK. I want everybody to break up into small groups for 10 minutes and talk about how you played when you were 7.

I waited until she was grinning the other way and scooted out the door without paying. When I got home, I jumped in the shower and washed the goo off. Then I weighed myself and you know what? You were right! When I got all the icky sap off, I weighed .8 less! Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! (smack, smack, smack, smack) I did lose weight at Weight Watchers.

Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll go back if you’ll give me a script for an unlimited supply of nausea meds.
Love,

Dr. Ken Bradstock

P.S. Dottie reminded me when I told her this story that Zoe was our dentist’s office manager and embezzled thousands of dollars from his practice. She also failed to file hundreds of dollars of insurance claims on our family’s care along with many other families. “Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaa! (smack, smack, smack, smack)