About Part I

Emily, Sean, Tamara, and Marc have all joined Weight Watchers for different reasons.

Marc wants to find love. He feels that his weight has stopped him from having the confidence to find his true love.

Emily’s husband refuses to sleep with her. He says she is getting bigger by the minute.

Join these four people as they join Weight Watchers, lose weight, and gain so much more in and out of love!

“So, I have gone and done it. I’ve joined Weight Watchers. The first session is tonight,” I tell my husband.

“Babes, I am so proud of you. Get rid of those love handles, those cellulite thighs, thick calves, double chin, sagging arms, overhanging breasts, and drooping stomach. Then, I can get it on with you again and leave Sara behind. You know there is only one woman I want to be sleeping with, but over the years, you’ve left me no choice,” Barry says to me.

“I know, I can’t remember the last time you called me ‘Babes.’ I’m doing this for me, but more importantly, for you. You are my everything, and I hate the idea of you being with another woman because of the way I look. I want you to enjoy me just like the good old days, when we first married,” I say to him.

“And you were slim and sexy. Then, after the kids, you just got so fat and ugly, it just got too difficult for me to stay faithful. You get tired after you come. Or at times, you just open your legs and I can hardly fit in there,” he says to me.

“I know, you don’t need to explain. I’ve heard it all before, and I know it makes sense. It makes sense to everyone - your parents, my parents, our friends. Everyone understands, you don’t have to feel guilty about it,” I say. “I let myself go and I shouldn’t have done that. Never. I have no reason to be unhappy. Just sometimes, I get a box of cookies, or ice-cream, and by the time I get home from the grocery store, it’s all gone. I just don’t understand it. If a good movie is on, the same thing happens, I just sit and watch and eat.”

As I look in the mirror, I scan myself up and down slowly, first looking at my heavily made up face. The foundation looks like I have packed it on to hide my spotty face. My hair is perfectly done as I just got home from the hairdresser’s with a new bob cut. I hold in my stomach thinking this is what it’s going to look like in a few months. Goodbye size 16, hello size 6. I think that’s a realistic goal for me. I was that size when I was first married and it’s the size I love the most.

I realize that he is right. I’ve known it for the last five years, and I’ve been living in denial. The crushing point came when I went to the doctor and was told about all the complications and illnesses that I could contract if I get any bigger. That set aside, my doctor is Barry’s best friend and golfing partner. I think he was more concerned about our marriage than he was about my health. He has voiced it many times. He doesn’t think that our relationship is healthy, and he thinks Barry is an asshole, plain and simple.

“You need to lose weight, and you need to do it now. Are you unhappy? Is that the reason why it seems like you go up a size every year?” Doctor Harper asks.

I think to myself, my husband doesn’t want to touch me and he’s with another woman, why would I be unhappy?

“What’s there to be unhappy about? I have a loving husband who is only straying because I’m so fat. And I have done nothing about it after all these years, it just gets worse,” I tell him.

“To each their own, but I don’t think that’s justification to stray from home. He should be helping you lose weight. Does he invite you to go to the gym with him?” my doctor asked me.

“Yes. Why should he have to suffer because I can’t control my eating? Look, I hear what you’re saying, but it’s not his fault. I’m going to join Weight Watchers. I saw an advertisement for a local meeting at the grocery store,” I say to him.

“Are you sure you’re going to go?” he asks. “I thought you signed up for some group last time and that’s all you did - sign up. I’m not sure if you actually attended a meeting.”

I ignore his sarcasm, “I’m fed up with running around and pretending that my size doesn’t matter. The kids had a sports day and conveniently forgot to tell me because they didn’t want the embarrassment of me trying to compete in the parents’ race. I felt so bad when I picked them up from school and the other parents were asking where I was. And they joked asking if I would make it past the starting line this year because last year I fell over at the starting line, and someone had to help me up. I am joining Weight Watchers, and that’s it!”

“Go on a diet now or die,” advises Doctor Rodriguez, my family doctor who has delivered many children in the family including myself.

“Stuff is more important than your own health? Your sugar levels are through the roof, your cholesterol is high. There is nothing good about your health right now. Go on a diet or you will die!” Dr. Rodriguez exclaims.

“My best friend’s uncle is getting married this weekend, so I can’t start now,” I reason.

I’m embarrassed as I sit there. I don’t know what to say, with all those years of studying medicine, you would have thought they would teach doctors about the meaning of tact. Then again, I have never had any other doctor so I have no one to compare him to.

The other day he asked me how long it took me to walk from the parking lot to his office because he was watching me through the window. I told him it took a couple of minutes. He began laughing telling me that I couldn’t tell time. He then gave me a breakdown of how long it took me to reach his office.

“Well, it took you two minutes just to get out of the car. It must have taken you five minutes to get from the car to the building door because I went to pee, and when I came back you were still walking. Finally, it must have taken you another five minutes to get in the elevator and up to the first floor,” he explained. “Why didn’t you just walk up the stairs? Why do you Americans think that if there’s an elevator, you must use it? Elevators are for people going at least past the second floor and who are in a hurry. You clearly are not in a hurry to get anywhere! If you were, no one would notice. And the only reason they would notice is because you would have a heart attack on the spot and die!”

“Dr. Rodriguez, I want to change doctors so badly but Mom says that I can’t, at 35 years old, she still tells me what to do. I only left home last year, so I suppose I should be moving on now, although I am nearly there all the time, she still keeps my room in case I decide to move back in. We have been with you for forever. Furthermore, you delivered me, so she says I must stay with you so you can deliver my babies,” I tell him.

“Seriously, you think you’re having babies? I think you’re kidding me! I did deliver you – you were fat then and you’re still fat. It’s no laughing matter. You need to make a change in your life starting now. Now leave, I have other patients who do want to get better!” Dr. Rodriguez dismisses me.

I slowly get up. I’m shocked by his outrage and his rudeness. I can’t even open my mouth to say goodbye. As I approach the door, he says, “See, that took you three minutes!” I slam the door shut.

So, after two weeks of searching for a new doctor, three told me that I needed to go on a serious diet. I decided that maybe I should go on a diet, seeing as it’s the general consensus.

As I solemnly go back to see Dr. Rodriguez, he greets me, “I see you are back! I thought you were trying to leave?”

“Please give me a break, I’m not in the mood. I didn’t have a good day today. I feel really tired and my heartbeat starts to fluctuate at times. I feel worse than I have ever felt in my life, and I realize now that all you said is right. I need help,” I plead.

He walks over to me and gives me a big hug. Then he says, “Here is a name of a group. Please join it. I need you to go, you were the first baby I delivered after medical school. And I want to deliver your babies, but no fat babies, please!”

“This thing’s getting out of hand,” I say to my girlfriends at my cousin’s wedding. “He doesn’t touch me anymore. He says the last time we damn near had sex, I nearly killed him!”

“Sugar, there’s no easy way to tell you this. But you are BIG, I mean B-I-G. I’m not sure what’s going on, but you need to stop eating and start dieting. You know me, I used to be big, but then you get to this point that you realize things need to change. And believe me when I say this, you need to change,” Guaynita tells me, giving me a big hug. “You need to go on a diet or something!”

Taquyna says, “She’s right, girlfriend, enough is enough. See how long we searched for a dress for you to come to this wedding. It’s not right. We need you back to how you were before - the sexy Tamara or at least close enough. I still think it’s because you aren’t happy with that man. That’s why you’re that size. If you’re happy in a relationship, you look good, NOT bad.”

I’m standing there with my swollen ankles, ashamed to tell my friends that I need to sit down after only one minute of standing. I have been ashamed of a lot of things lately and considering I am only 26 years old, I know this is not healthy. Things need to change. It was bad enough that last week someone asked me if I had five or six kids at home. I couldn’t tell them that I have none. They assumed all the food I was buying at the grocery store was for the kids. I just couldn’t say it was for me, so I told them I had seven. They said I looked good considering I had seven kids at home. They also commented that my food bill must be through the roof.

Initially when I bought the salon it was easy, I had to work so hard to get things up and running. Now, with the salon doing so well, I have been taking it easy. I’m not working as much and it feels so good. Too good in fact. What doesn’t help is the fact that I’m so big. It doesn’t help that Troy is big, too. We spend most of our time eating, eating, and eating.

I had my wakeup call the other day when we both got in the car. We didn’t think it was going to start. The car was so low. We took it to the mechanic and he said the suspension was getting lower as our sizes are getting bigger and bigger.

I don’t exercise at all. I don’t even cook anymore. We just seem to order take out more and more each day. Cooking and cleaning seems to be too much of a chore for me. Everything feels too hard.

Am I going to make them change their own diapers because Troy and I can’t get up and change their diapers? I don’t even know how I’m going to breastfeed. I can’t even find my own nipple! The other day I was searching for it because I was convinced it was gone. Long gone. I can’t even see my own feet when I stand up. At times, I need to stand in front of a mirror to make sure they are still there.

I need help. I need to turn my life around, and because I can’t afford surgery, I need to do it the right way. The only way I know how. I’m going to go on a diet. I’m going to join that Weight Watchers program I saw in the paper.

“Sean, we need to join Weight Watchers. We’ve been unlucky in love for too long now. Neither of us is getting any healthier and neither of us is getting any younger.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke? I mean Weight Watchers is for women. Can we talk about it at home?” Sean asks. “I just heard the same thing from Doctor Rodriguez, I don’t need to hear it again.”

“Come on, we sit all day at our desks, our sales figures are down because we don’t even go on the road as much anymore. I mean, what sales person do you know stays at their desk all day, every day? We can’t go to client sites because we seem to spend all our money on food. We can’t even afford new clothes! Man, we need to step up and realize that we need to go to Weight Watchers and soon!” I exclaim.

“You know what got me the most? When Mom bought us those T-shirts when she came back from her trip last month. Do you remember?” Sean says.

“Yes, how can I forget? Larger Than Life and Size!” I recall. “The worst part was when my family said we should put them on. We put them on and people took a picture. Do you remember?”

“I can’t stop crying every time I look at that photo! We need to step up the game!” I say. “The thing is, I thought it was OK. At school, I used to get teased all the time but I think when you’re older it just gets worse!”

“You go to dinner – Mom always says, ‘There’s not enough on your plate!’ Or ‘Have another slice’, or ‘Come on, you can’t be full, you’re never full’,” Sean continues to say. “Everyone expects me to clean my plate, or have the last piece of cake, or have a second or third helping.”

“But we do, Sean! We eat the last piece or that second helping. Then, we complain that our waist size doesn’t change! We have the biggest portions on our plates. We don’t exercise. The most exercise we do is trying to get the remote from the side table. Sometimes I wonder how we even get home because we are too lazy to get off our desk chairs. Face it, we’re lazy, and we’re fat, and we need help,” I say. “I am tired of having a double chin. I’ve had it for 20 years, and I want it to stop! I need it to go away.”

“OK, OK, I get the picture. You want to join Weight Watchers for women, and you want me to go with you,” Sean says, waving his arms in the air as if to surrender.

“No, I, Marc Price, am saying that you, Sean Henderman, are coming with me to Weight Watchers, and it is NOT just for women! You were told to go by your doctor, so you know it’s not just for women.”

“Sure, I will come with you to a Weight Watchers meeting,” he says as he stands up slowly trying to get off his chair with his excess thighs in the jogging pants that he wears because he can no longer fit into normal-sized trousers. He realizes that Marc is right but he’s in denial. The realization that things have to change happens the moment he attempts to walk around towards Marc’s desk and his chubby legs give way. At that point, he grabs onto Marc’s desk and says “When is the session for Weight Watchers for women?”

“Hi, my name is Barbara Millers, I am 30 years old, and one year ago, I weighed 266 pounds. Today, I weigh 133 pounds!” Barbara is wearing her Nike tank top and cycling shorts to emphasize the curves of her body that she gained by following this program.

“So, I’m here to share my experiences, my stories, and my challenges with all of you,” Barbara says.

“We don’t need to be in church to praise the Lord. He is everywhere!” Ja’Quaelah exclaims.

At that point, they both start jumping up and down with their oversized breasts and overhanging bellies bouncing around. Out of nowhere, one of them has a tambourine. They start chanting, “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!”

Barbara is unclear as to how to control the situation. So, she starts chanting with them, joining in the fun. Barbara loves any excuse to party. She loved to dance all her life, but often found herself on a chair enjoying the partying from a distance as her size grew. She spent more time watching and less time dancing, which led to her frustrations and her bid to lose weight by joining Weight Watchers.

She notices that most of the people from her session have joined in and are jumping up and down, too. Everyone is chanting. She decides that instead of allowing everyone to get into the whole schedule of Weight Watchers, she will allow them to inadvertently exercise. That is the best way to get them to exercise without them realizing it.

She is so relieved that the whole session is being enjoyed by all. She takes a sip of whiskey from her flask and passes it around to the group. As they take more sips, they get louder and louder.

Tamara thinks that it’s time to leave, if she wanted to go to church she would be there on Sundays not in a Weight Watchers meeting.

Sean cannot believe what’s going on in this meeting. At first, it was amusing but after 15 minutes, it was clear they were not going to stop. And he didn’t come here to listen to gospel music sang badly.

Finally, Marc is at a place and ready to make a change in his life and it has completely backfired. He can see the anxiety on Sean’s face, he’s ready to leave. Marc feels the same way, that they should swiftly but surely make their exit.

Emily is hungry, she hasn’t eaten all day. She doesn’t have the strength or energy to be jumping up and down. Also, she feels this is a sign that she is never going to lose weight and that her efforts have been in vain.

Emily, Marc, Tamara, and Sean decide enough is enough and leave the hall. They bump into each other while walking out the door. They are watching the scene of these overweight men and women jumping up and down like wild animals while being passed a flask of something which is making them even more hyperactive.

“Guys, you want to grab a salad?” Emily asks the total strangers she bumps into on her way out the door. Emily asked the other three this because she knew that if she returned home, her husband would be annoyed about the fact that she joined Weight Watchers and was home so early. It could only mean one thing to him – that she never went!

They all look at each other and say, “Sure,” in unison, and then they laugh.

Marc straightens out his trousers and shirt, excited about the fact that he came to lose weight and instead, he was landing a date with a hot girl. A slightly older, but hot girl. OK, so if he wasn’t overweight maybe she wouldn’t be so hot. But when you have lived a life of solitude, you just take anyone from the opposite sex who gives you any attention provided they fall under the following criteria:

The fifth and most important rule of them all – They are NOT your grandma! The women on that list seem to be the only females that pay extra attention to him. He used to think that if only Grandma was around 50 years younger, he would date her! Hell, no – if she was 20 years younger and not a relative. Or at least not a direct relative.

The four of them are sitting in the diner across the street, seeing the remainder of the people, mainly women as Sean keeps pointing out, jumping up and down. For some reason, they seem to have more tambourines.

Tamara says, “It must be a divine gift from God! It is a sign,” waving her chubby arms in the air from side to side.

“Personally, I don’t believe in God. If there was a God, then he would giveth all this fat and simply take it away,” Tamara says and hands out the menus to them individually. She starts to scan the menu wondering where to commence the little feast that is escalating in her mind. “I mean, look at this menu, all this good food. Yet, we’re not supposed to eat it? That makes no sense! By the way, my name is Tamara.”

“My name is Marc. Sure, we’re supposed to eat it, but in moderation, that’s the difference. This is why we are the way we are,” he says looking down at his stomach, which is stuck up against the table. He is trying hard to find a way to make himself more comfortable in his seat. His palsy skin is getting redder by the minute as he is trying to find another way to fit at the table.

Emily recognizes his uncomfortableness and says, “Emily,” as she points to herself. She continues to say, “It’s OK. I can pull the table in a bit more towards me.” Then, she regrets the statement as she moves the table further into her sagging breasts, which are now nearly supported by the table top.

“That’s better,” he says as he moves the table only slightly outwards so that he does not make anyone else feel uncomfortable.

“OK, I’ll go first,” says Tamara. “I’ve tried Slim-Fast. It should be called gas-fast, especially for us African-Americans. 99% of us are lactose intolerant and drinking those shakes gave me gas day and night! At work, I would go to the bathroom nearly twenty times a day just so I could blow. The smell was unbearable. At times, it would keep me up at night. I would be blowing away and it would be so loud. One time, I thought someone broke into the apartment, it was so loud! It was so uncomfortable. Too uncomfortable.”

“You have no idea!” Tamara replied. “One time, I had to leave the bathroom quick because the smell was killing me! I lost weight, but when I got to my goal...”

“How much did you lose?” Emily asked with excitement, her face red and her cheeks puffy.

“Wow, that’s only a dream for me,” Marc says, putting his hands over what he thinks is possibly his waist.

“You can lose it, but don’t stop drinking it. That’s the problem. As soon as I stopped drinking it, and was reintroduced to food, I put on 125 pounds,” Tamara explained. “I was bigger than I was before I started drinking the shakes. I was putting on weight in record time, too. I mean, you go from having little or no food to being introduced to everything.”

“Bet you had a killer body,” Sean says as he looks at Tamara shyly and pushes his soft curly brown hair from his face.

“What have you done Marc?” Emily asks because she can tell by the tone of his voice, like he is fed up that he has tried several groups and attempts at losing weight. She can tell that he is a kind man, due to the gentleness in his voice and his politeness through their first encounter. She can’t figure out how old he is due to the fact that his cropped hair is soon-to-be gray. He has the most beautiful hazel eyes that she has ever seen.

“What haven’t I tried? That should be the question,” says Marc. “Weight Watchers twice before. After the first session each time, I quit. I just thought this time would be different. I have reached the crunching point. I’m disappointed with my results. I’ve tried Lighterlife three times. The same thing happens, after the first session, I leave. I have joined a jogging club. I couldn’t get past the first mile. I turned around and walked home. I had to go back the next day to get my car because I was so embarrassed about my attempt. I try the gym at least once every three months.”

Everyone stops and stares at him, then Emily says, “At least you’ve tried!”

At that point, the table goes quiet as the food manifests itself. They all look at it like children in a candy store, eyes full of excitement. Then, they all look at each other like they should not be doing this and they are confused by their next actions. If they were in the comfort of their own home, they would simply indulge. Today, they are supposed to be trying to lose weight and they have failed by not staying at their first meeting.

“Oh, I’ve never heard of that. What is it?” Marc asks in anticipation of whether to tuck into his double cheeseburger and large fries, which are sitting on the table calling his name – Marc, come and get me! Marc, what are you waiting for? Marc, you know you want me!

“OK, so it’s a group, like a support group. And what you do is pair up with someone and then they are your support unit. Like a diet version of AA,” Emily explains.

Obviously, he is not the only one because before you know it they are all following suit. There is a loud crash as they slam their hands on the table unable to contain the temptation any longer, the few seconds the food has been on the table feels like a lifetime, and they are all shouting.

After they stop shouting and begin eating, there is complete silence at the table. No one can speak. Everyone is happy and in love with eating and eating alone. Their minds wander to what delights should manifest themselves next. Should it be the chocolate cake, the ice cream, or the banana split?

“I joined the gym once. I think it was about five years ago. They gave me a program and a whole schedule. The next day I quit and asked for my money back!” said Sean, proud of his achievements in trying to lose weight.

Tamara says, “Well, it doesn’t matter what we’ve tried. It matters why we are doing it. I want a baby. I have wanted one for so long. The doctor says if I don’t lose weight, I can’t have one.”

“Why then did you just drink that double chocolate shake, and eat that double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate cake? Now, you’re scanning the menu for more food?” asks Marc.

“Yes, but he’s right. If you really want a baby so badly, then why eat so much?” Sean says.

“I just want my husband to sleep with me again,” says Emily. “He has a mistress because I am too big.”

“That is just plain sad. He’s a two-timing bastard, and you let him get away with it,” Tamara says,

“Do you hear yourself? I mean, you’re crying about how God giveth and he hasn’t taketh away. You’re eating like there is no tomorrow. I know you stole my last few fries when I went to the bathroom. And yet you say you can’t get pregnant!” Emily says standing up with her hands on her hips, making a stance for the first time. This is the first time she has made a stance in a long time.

She sweeps her bangs out of her eyes and says, “We all have a problem. We all look horrible. This is why we needed to come to Weight Watchers. We all need to lose weight. Who’s with me?”

With that, they all stand up and put their hands together to make a pact, “We will diet. We will exercise. And we will lose weight.”