People looked at me but it didn't matter after a while because I knew that I was accomplishing something and they weren't." Things were working, marvelously.
I came down from 225 to 197. Then from 197 to 184. I felt ten years younger.
People remarked about how good I looked.
Everybody except Harry the truck driver.
Of course, he was just jealous because he never got into Sarah's panties.
His tough shit.
One night on the scales I was down to 179. I said to Sarah, "Don't you think we've come down enough? Look at me!" The things on my sides were long gone.
My belly hung in.
My cheeks looked as if I were sucking them in.
According to the charts," said Sarah, "according to my charts, you've not yet reached a desirable size." "Look," I told her, "I'm six feet tall.
What is the desireable weight?" And then Sarah answered me quite strangely.
