Falls the Shadow

Gordito “For God’s sake,” my wife said to me. “Go on a diet or something.

Lose some weight.”

“Oh, honey. I’m not that big.”

“Don’t ‘oh, honey,’ me. You’re a total fat ass, Gordito.”

So I went on a diet, gave up chips, steak, cream in my coffee. I joined the gym and went to work out.

“Jesus, man,” a guy on the StairMaster said. “You look like you’re going to have a freaking stroke. You’ll be dangling an arm, you’re not careful.”

I went and looked in the mirror, and he was right. I looked like shit, like hot skim milk and cigarette ash.

I asked my doctor about this and he gave me a vial full of pills, long, purple tablets like little penises. It was embarrassing to put them in my mouth. People would watch.

“Honey?” I said. “I don’t think I can lose weight. I’ve tried.”

She rolled her eyes and clucked. She drummed her fingers and sighed, looked toward heaven for strength.