Social etiquette involves food

like when I go over to my mother’s house

and she offers me half an apple and some crackers.

“Thanks mom.”

I eat them

without realizing what’s happening.

“Have you gone on the Abascal Diet yet?” She asks.

“No, not yet.”

“You should, if you want to lose weight. Young people look so much better after they’ve dropped a few pounds.”

She says this with a knowing superiority.

I look into the mirror

and I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been.

I’m socializing more, and people keep offering me food. When I turn them down, they get offended.

“Just try—the Key Lime Pie.”

The other day, I decided to stay home, and I immediately lost weight.

It was easy to stop eating.

I realized,

all of the American chit-chat about the love of food and the necessity for dieting had my mind confused.

I ate an Avocado on Saturday.

Each day, I lost a pound.

People began to look at me differently.

I didn’t tell them anything.

Power is the ability to take action and not to talk about it.

The janitor kept popping into my office at work and checking my trash.

It was empty, because I hadn’t eaten all day.

“I’m going to be out of a job,” he said.

After four days of disappointment, he found a tape dispenser ring at the bottom of my black bag.

“Yippie,” he shouted.

“I’m glad I made your day,” I said.

“Are you demon possessed?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well—there’s something odd going on here.”

“I don’t know what it is…”

After 10 pounds melted-off me, I felt lighter.

I ran up my apartment steps like Rocky.

I watched The Great Courses and contemplated getting skinny.

The clarity…

I know what I need to do.