Tuesday, August 01, 2006

IT HAPPENED....FINALLLY

So, it finally happened. Every fat girls worst nightmare. Lindsey and I have joked about this for years. Literally, years. I broke a scale.

Okay, so it's not like I stepped on a scale and the thing couldn't handle my robust weight, but still, it was broken by me and me alone. And July 26, 2006 will forever now be known as "The Day I Broke A Scale".

It was a loverly day here in good old Los Angeles. I woke up in a chipper mood ready to face the glorious day of work ahead of me. I had energy, I felt alive. I felt that it was time to use the free membership to the gym that my company so generously provides me with.

Now, this wasn't my first jaunt into working out. For many years I've joined and un-joined many a gym. I've had my fair share of personal trainers. But, those gyms always had such hard obstacles for me to overcome, such as getting into my car and driving there or leaving work and not going straight home to watch Gilmore Girls that I've tivo'd. But, this gym is at work, so it takes no effort for me to get there...and I like no effort.

So, with a gleeful feeling and hop in my step, I went to the gym, I put my tennis shoes (or sneakers) on, I even bought myself a water. And then, out of the corner of my eye I caught it: The Scale.

This scale wasn't one of the digital scales like I have at home. It was a real, bonafide, doctor's type of scale...you know, the kind that you have to move the weight over to find your well, weight. So, I did just that, sort of pre-setting it because I know what range I'm in. And then it happened, I stepped on the scale.

Now, I'm not so much a clumsy girl. Granted, I once broke my wrist walking UP a flight of stairs, but clumsy, not so much. But, when I placed my foot on the scale I didn't really realize that my entire foot was not on the scale, about 1/4 of my foot was, length wise, and this caused the base of the scale to sort of, to put it mildly, pop off and cause a weird noise to occur. The scale was broken.

Let's get this straight: My weight was not the cause of the breakage of the scale. Foot placement...or so I tell myself...is to blame.

Two days later I had a gym orientation with a trainer who, while giving me a tour of all the gym amenities, mentioned to me that the scale was, in fact, broken...but she wasn't quite sure how it happened.

16 comments:

Laura said...

Oh gosh! I think I may be fired from falling off my chair laughing.

I am quite sure that I have never broken a scale, but I did break my cousin's tire swing...

And I was skinny at the time.

Oh, I love this blog. Keep it up girls!

Anonymous said...

Did you manage to keep a straight face when the trainer told you that? :D

Anonymous said...

I never broke a scale but i have broken 2 chairs. Once at my skinny sisters bachelorette type weekend thing. The other one...was at graduation and i was in the very first row so EVERYONE saw me. And when I went to get my diploma the President of my college turned to me and goes are you ok? Lord THAT was embarassing. Apparently like a dozen chairs broke (even one of my skinny friends) but that didn't take away from my utter embarassment.

Anonymous said...

if you could see your feet you might not have broken the scale

Anonymous said...

Don't feel bad - it was the scale's Time to Go. I'm sure it lived a long happy life, and whoever stepped on it right then would have broken it. It just happened to be you. Imagine if some 110 pounder had broken it - she'd be horking her ricecakes in horror. Or if a 300 lb bodybuilder guy broke it, he would be bragging to all his friends. Stuff just breaks, no big deal.

Anonymous said...

On the plus side, you now have an excuse not to weigh yourself for a bit until the scales are mended.

FatMom said...

Oh, McGee! I'm dying! That's a funny story! Ah, who needs the scale anyhow?!

Anonymous said...

I would like to send your blog to publishers and get it made into a book. Only if I were powerful in the publishing world!

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Anonymous said...

"Don't feel bad - it was the scale's Time to Go. I'm sure it lived a long happy life, and whoever stepped on it right then would have broken it."

*falls over laughing*

To Heather: dancing is absolutely cardio. Have you tried Dance Dance Revolution?

The skinny girls were just mad because you had your groove on, and they were too busy trying to look cool and so did not feel they were allowed to have a groove.

Rock on.

Anonymous said...

FWIW, a skinny friend of mine broke our home scale several years ago. And the doctor's scale at my FP's office has a really loose base plate which I've always been scared of. I doubt it was your weight at all. Those things are industrial. Think of all the 250-350 pound strength trainers they've weighed over the years.

Regina Rodriguez-Martin said...

Excellent story.

Anonymous said...

I once broke a scale and made my neighbors think that an earthquake hit the city, when I accidentally dropped a heavy barbell on it. I never bought another scale again.

jae said...

HILARIOUS!! My grandparents had a wooden toilet seat that was cracked. One day I sat my big ol butt on it and it grabbed ahold of my butt cheek and I had to have my uncle help me off the john! Oh, the crap we go through! And to littlem, you are always so sweet when you comment! ~j

Melissa said...

Fatty McGee...you definitely didn't break the scale...I refuse to believe that. It must have been defective before you actually stepped on it because of the extrenuous wear and tear of the machine in the gym. You did make me laugh, gotta love your humor...but goodness, you didn't bust up that scale.

Anonymous said...

Yeah! I once broke a scale!

No, it wasn't due to my stepping on it wrong like having one foot on the edge, or anything like that.

It was due to my weight! The scale had a 350 pound limit, and I exceeded the weight limit of the scale.

It was a regular scale like they have in the doctor's office, and at the time I weighed well over 350 pounds.

I use to go to the Plasma Center twice a week to donate blood plasma, not whole blood, but plasma where they take your blood, spin it in a centrifuge to seperate the red blood cells from the golden yellow plasma, then they keep the plasma and give you back the red blood cells.

I made an extra 100 dollars per month selling plasma.

At the Plasma Center, they really loved us fat people!!! That is because we fat people have a much higher plasma yield than average size people.

I was actually one of their favorite doners because I was the heaviest person there. I guess you could say I was one of their prize cows! Ha! Ha! :)

I enjoyed going there, and they actually encouraged people to gain weight, and every doner was given a list of healthy foods to eat, and we were encouraged to have a beer with our meals, but NOT to have any beer on the days before we come in to donate, but after we donate.

I always produced a good quality plasma, a nice pretty golden color, while some people their plasma would come out looking milky from eating too many greasy fried foods. Mine was always a clear golden color.

Before donating, every doner had to get weighed on the scale, and if you lost more than 5 pounds since your last donation, you were rejected.

But if you had gained some weight, that was good, because your plasma yield would be higher.

Anyway, I came in as usual, and when I stepped on the scale, I broke it!

It took a few hours to get it fixed, but from that day on, I was forbidden to ever step on their scale ever again.

But I was still welcome to come in to donate plasma, they just didn't bother to weigh me anymore.

Of course, I became the butt end of all their jokes, but I really didn't mind. I was still their favorite doner.

Also, although it's hard to find most of my vains because I have a lot fo fat under my skin, there is on place where my arm bends where they have easy access to the vain, and I have big vains under the fat.

They said that I was easy, and so I said in a joking way "Watch it! I may be easy, but I'm not cheap!"

And one of them said "You got that right!" because it cost them money to get the scale fixed.

Anyway, that was the only time I have ever busted a scale, but over the years I have broken three beds and a few chairs, and I even broken the suspension when some one gave me a ride in his car which was a small Toyota with a little four banger.

Yeah, I'm fat and heavy, but I actually like being nice and fat. I like weighing twice as much as the average person.