You’re Fat (Part 3) . . .

Christy brought her husband to see me a week later. She waited in the car. I watched as this mammoth of a man, angling his body sideways came through the door. He grimaced with each step. I motioned him to take a seat. I could distinctly hear the sound of boards splintering as he plopped onto the couch. 

“My wife said you wanted to see me.” 

“Is that what she said?” 


“Are you quite sure it was not the other way around?” 


“Why are you here?” 

“I just told you.” 

“Then you have wasted your time.” 


“I do not know you. So, there would be no proclivity for us to meet.” 

“Listen,” he said, raising his voice. “My wife dragged me down here.” 

“Are you serious?” 


“You’re telling me that half pint of a woman could drag you anywhere.” 

“Man, what’s your problem?” 

“I assure you sir; the fault is not with me. You can do us both a favor.” 

“Man, I ain’t doing nothing.” 

“Christy, has faith in my prowess as a personal trainer. Tell her, I said, she wasted her time bringing you down to meet me. For there is no possible way I can help you.” 

“Christy? Man where do you get off calling my wife by her first name.” 

“I haven’t known Christy long, but her faith in me has been misplaced, if she thinks I can help you.”

“I knew you couldn’t,” he countered, snarling. “I told her this would be a waste of time.” 

“It’s not that I can’t help you. It’s more that I’m not willing to. Christy is a very determined woman, and if you came back with any other excuse than I can’t help you, she will bother me to no end.” 

“You don’t want to help me?” 

“No, I don’t want you to waste her money, but more importantly my time.” 

“Her money!” 

“Yes, her money. You don’t believe I can help you, so why would you pay me. You see, I knew a lot about you before you ever plodded through the door.” 

He glared at me. “What has Christy been telling you?” 

“She never uttered a word.” 

I got up from the desk and rolled the double-sided mobile whiteboard where he could plainly see it. I drew a 4-pane window. 

“Let us see if my hypothesis is correct. What we have here is a 4-pane window. The upper left quadrant is what you know about yourself, and what I also know. We will represent that with two checkmarks. In the lower left quadrant, which represent things you know about yourself, and things no one will ever know, I will use a checkmark for you and an x for me. In the upper right quadrant is things I know about you, but you have no idea that I do. An x mark for me and a checkmark for you.” 

“What could you possibly know about me?” 

“You’re undisciplined, you honor no commitments as it pertains to your body, and whenever possible, when Christy is not around you binge eat.” 

“Christy told you all that?” 

“Which is why you’re fat.” 

“What,” he bristled at first, before settling back on the couch. 

“No need to blame your wife. I can assure you these conclusions were arrived at without her help. If you were disciplined, you would not be fat. If you honored your commitments by sticking to a workout regimen prescribed by your trainers, you would not be fat. If you could curtail your eating habits and make better nutritional choices, you would not be fat.” 

“Man, where do you get off calling me fat. I could break you in two.” 

“No doubt you would try, which is why I motioned you to have a seat on that couch. You wanted to attack me when I first called you fat, but realized that you could not get up without assistance, and sheepishly reposed back onto the couch.” 

“Man, what’s your game?” 

“Surely you jest. You cannot walk without grimacing. Your joints are unable to sustain your corpulence. Your breathing is labored. The path you’re on will only lead to pallbearers singing sad songs alongside your grave.” 

“I don’t need this!” 

“You absolutely do not, which is why I told you before, do us both a favor. Simply tell your wife, I can’t help you.” 

“What’s in the lower right corner?” 

“Ah, wouldn’t you like to know . . .?” 



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