kick him out of the gym. “I’m telling your manager on you!”
Well, that was about as mature as the boy himself and his arse-groping hand.
Chapter 15
I told on Thomas to his boss yesterday, completely forgetting that the lad had previously been sacked. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway because I’m not sure the Meli Spa manager believed me at the time. Thomas had done a runner and Brenda went on with her exercise ball class without me.
Nevertheless, the manager had offered me a free spa treatment (as way of apology for Thomas and his bum feeling tactics that may or may not have happened in the managers’ eyes) that I plan on making use of soon. I’m sure I’ll definitely need some down time after mine and Callum’s wedding and honeymoon. The lead up to our big day is certainly proving stressful. I need something to calm me halfway down. I don’t want to relax too much as I need to keep my energy levels up to burn calories.
After work at the cafe I scoop my Kindle eBook reader off the coffee table. I type “diet” into the search field and wait while the eInk screen loads up the Amazon eBookStore. There are so many fucking books on dieting, I have to narrow down my search keywords to “exercise wedding diet” and hope that will do the trick.
It does.
The title of the suggested eBook that pops up on my Kindle screen catches my attention promptly. It called…
‘Fat Bitch = Fat Bride’ by Judith Shield
The eBook is only .99 pence, so I purchase it straight away from download. The forward of the diet book reads like this…
‘If you’re a fat bitch then you WILL be a fat bride. Read my book now to improve your chances of walking down that aisle at a decent size. You don’t want everyone staring at you thinking you’re nothing but a fat bitch, now do you?’
I shake my head at my Kindle screen in agreement contemplating, no Miss Shield Author Woman, I do not want people thinking I’m a fat bitch. And then I read on…
‘If you’ve purchased my book then you’ve taken the first steps to getting rid of your fat bitch status. However, you’re still currently a very fat bitch, so you need to come to terms with this fact.’
After reading the entire forward that goes on in this manner, I’m not sure I feel motivated to start working out double-time, or if I’m feeling much too depressed about my weight to even go on with life.
No, that’s just silly. How could a two-page piece about a book make me feel worse than before I’d read it? That’s not what professional authors do. If this book has made it to publication as a sound way of getting fat bitches —such as myself— to take charge of their pre-wedding lives, then that’s good enough for me!
At least, it should be, right?
Why do I have feelings of doubt about this dieter’s eBook? I’m not quite sure, so I start reading the first chapter. The fact that the book starts out with the words “bully” and “exercise-nazi” as a way of describing the author’s teaching tactics, doesn’t deter me from reading on in the slightest. After all, I’m guessing if a woman is a fat bitch —like me— sometimes they need harsher training advice.
Something tingles at the back of my eyes as I read more of the weight-loss eBook. I discover they are tears of sadness. The more I read about how fat the author thinks I am, the more depressed I become about my weight. In the back of my mind I’m hoping the creator of this self-help book is wrong, but a part of me can’t help wondering if I think that only because the truth hurts. I mean, I am a fat bitch, I know I must be, and I don’t want to be a fat bride. So, I read on and on some more…
By the time I’ve read the first half of the book I’m more confused and stressed out than ever. At least, I think I am. If Judith Shield were here with me right now, would she tell me I’m stressing? No. On the contrary, she’d probably call me a lazy bitch and tell me to get up off my fat arse and start exercising.
Throwing down my Kindle onto the couch cushion I jump up and start pacing the room. Momentarily, I stop and grab my iPhone off the coffee table.