Let's Talk

CW: body image, body shaming

Let’s Talk

“Yes, sir, you're just as fat as you were yesterday. Just because you had a restless night tossing and turning in your dreams, did you think that is the same as working out? The pounds don’t melt off like that in real life. Time to face facts buddy, you’re still fat.”

“Who said that? I must be still dreaming because I’m the only one here, aren’t I?”

“Will you please step your fat ass off my back, and we can talk about it? It’s amazing I can still function having to support all this tonnage. What makes you think you’re the only one here? Look down!”

“Look down? All I see is my bathroom scale. Who’s talking?”

“If I’m the only thing you see besides the toilet and sink, then I guess it must be me.

“What! Oh, this is weird. I’m having a conversation with my scale. When did you learn how to talk?”

“I’ve always been able to talk. I’ve just chosen not to until now. How much abuse should I take before I have to speak up? Your weight has been steadily increasing for the last five years. Enough is enough!”

“You’re right, my body doesn’t burn off the pounds like it used to. I’ll work on it, but now it’s time for breakfast. We’ll talk more tonight.”

Wow, I have a talking scale. If I told anyone about this at work, they would have me committed. I think I’d better keep this to myself. Anyway, time to make breakfast and get going.

“Seriously, you’re having bagels again! I can do more than bagels. There are plenty of other things I can cook. Maybe you should try frozen waffles or toast. Pop tarts are good and so are frozen strudel. I am a toaster oven. Why don’t you use my full potential instead of having the same old breakfast bagel every morning?”

“Holy crap, first I’m belittled by a talking scale and now a talking toaster oven calls me out for my choice of breakfast. This is really one strange day. Do you and the scale have conversations when I’m not home?”

“Sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about. If they don’t live in the kitchen, I have no way of communicating with them. Let’s get back to breakfast, shall we? The refrigerator tells me it holds all the ingredients for a sumptuous meal. Shall I instruct you on how to make it?”

“Sorry, my friend, but all I have time for is the usual bagel and cream cheese. Maybe we can try something this weekend.”

“Oh, very well. Drop the bagel in and let’s get on with it.”

“Thank you for being so understanding. My time is in short supply during the week.”

I’m standing in my kitchen apologized to a toaster oven. I need a vacation. This day can’t get any more bizarre, can it? One thing is for sure, the clock doesn’t care how insane my day is going. If I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late for work. I need one last trip through the bedroom for my shoes and I’m out of this madhouse.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Bud? Are you really planning to leave with me looking like this?”

“Now what! Who’s speaking this time?”

“It’s me, of course. The one who you spend all night with and then leave in a total mess every morning. Look at me, my bedspread tossed on the floor, the blankets wadded in a ball at my foot and my sheets in total disarray. I know you had a rough night, but that’s no excuse for leaving me like this.”

“Sorry, bed, but I just don’t have time for this or you right now.”

“Is that what you’re planning to tell the pretty young lady when you bring her home tonight? Please excuse the mess my bed is in. It’s not as if I had someone else over last night. It’s because I had a restless night, got up late and didn’t have time to make it. I’m sure she will understand, right?”

“You have a point, bed. I just hope my boss will understand. Of course, why wouldn’t he get it? I’ll simply explain that my bed shamed me into making it before I left the house.”

I made the bed in record time; bid goodbye to all the roommates I didn’t realize I had and made it to work a mere five minutes late. The rest of my day went fairly normal. I spoke only with humans, the only exception being my computer, who had nothing interesting to say. It was difficult to concentrate. My mind kept drifting back to everything that had occurred earlier that morning.

What was really going on? I hadn’t been drinking or taking any drugs, so there was nothing to send me into a delusional state. True, I had a restless night filled with strange dreams about bizarre places filled with unusual people speaking in unrecognizable languages. The entire night resembled a horror movie from the fifties. As much as I tried, segments of the dream refused to leave my mind.

Although I acted disappointed when my guest canceled our date, I was secretly relieved that she opted out. How could I possibly entertain a beautiful lady while expecting the wall clock or saltshaker to join in our conversation? I would wait until tomorrow, when my head was clear of all this nonsense, and invite her for supper once again.

Now that my calendar was clear for the evening, I took my scale’s advice and went to the gym. The workout was just what the doctor ordered. None of the equipment spoke to me and I was positive that whatever had happened to my mind was now a thing of the past. From the gym, I made a brief stop to buy some healthy food to begin building a new me.

I walked in the door, arms full of fresh groceries and as a joke called out, “Hi everyone, I’m home!”

Multiple voices replied, “Welcome back, we missed you!”

I dropped the bags on the floor and ran.