Memoirs of a Soon-to-Be Former Fat Guy

“Everything happens for a reason. Except for the spork. I mean, seriously, what the hell?” – Anonymous

Recently my employers have switched the provided plastic flatware from spoons and forks to the dreaded spork. You have no idea how much consternation this has caused. Grown men in the break room, weeping because they can no longer properly spear their manly steak and must resort to shoveling. A great wailing and gnashing of teeth from people attempting to spork their tomato soup without dripping any on their clothes. During a recent service anniversary party, employees were observed fleeing said party, handfuls of actual plastic forks and spoons secured to their bodies.

It is a sad state of affairs when one must fight the power of the spork. The spork has its place, that place, however, is not where I eat my dinner. An alert reader and fellow sufferer of the regime of the spork sent me the following information she found on Wikipedia:

            “Plastic sporks are common in prisons in the United States because they are difficult to form into weapons.”

Seriously? Could this be the true reason that the spork has been foisted upon us? Are there  really pressroom operators, composition specialists and CSRs in the exercise yard making prison shivs? This baffles me to no end. There are times when it feels like jail, but that’s only when you’re stuck in a windowless room for hours on end. There are no bars. There used to be bad chow, but then they closed the cafeteria on 2nd and 3rd shifts. I’m very confused.

Enough about the spork for now. Let’s get down to brass tacks, namely our excursion to the wooly hinterlands of Mechanicsburg. This is pretty exciting stuff for those of use who don’t get out much, so bear with me.

Around 11 AM, Mrs. T and I grabbed our environmentally conscious grocery bags, a cooler, some ice blocks and headed out to the Honda. After a stop for gas and a stop to drop off overdue library materials we were back on 283 west heading toward Harrisburg. Traffic moved pretty well until we got to the I-83 bridge. After crawling across the bridge, we entered the traffic wasteland of 581. Not pretty, but we made it to our destination…

Wegman’s. (Insert choir of angels singing)

After securing a parking space, we took our environmentally conscious grocery bags, grabbed a cart and entered grocery nirvana. First stop is usually the produce aisle. Brimming with every sort of produce you could want (and some you wouldn’t), we set to work grabbing healthy stuff. Broccoli crowns? Check. Four types of extremely crunchy apples? Check. Two bunches of celery? Check. $300.00 a pound summer truffles? (silence) Anyone? Anyone? That’s what I thought. When I posted a picture of the price tag of the truffles, the best comment was “Those truffle pigs have to be paid a living wage.”

After navigating the produce aisle, it’s considered good form to admire the tomato, basil and fresh mozzarella salad, then on to the meat aisle. They just have the nicest meats. The really nice thing is that the meat is vacuum packed and stays very fresh. Several trips ago, we bought pork chops and each chop was sealed individually on a sheet. Cut them into strips of two pork chops, stick them in the freezer, no worries. After picking up some pork tenderloin and chicken breast, we admired the brilliant red color of the wild-caught sockeye salmon and made our way to the checkout area.

All-in-all, a most excellent shopping trip. It should also be noted that Wegman’s stocks a decent selection of beers. There’s your typical mass-produced American swill (Yech, Budweiser) along with a decent selection of microbrews and imports. The prices are a little high, but you pay for convenience.

Upon leaving Wegman’s, we ventured across the parking lot to the true Holy of Holies. Chick-Fil-A. Anyone who knows me for any length of time knows about my affinity for Chick-Fil-A. These three words alone are the reason I could never pull off being a vegetarian. I’d drive too close to a Chick-Fil-A and next thing you know I’d be passed out in the middle of the restaurant surrounded by a sea of empty foil sandwich bags.

That was not the case yesterday, as I ate smart. I had half of a grilled chicken sandwich and half of a standard chicken sandwich with a small fruit cup and a bottle of water. Total caloric damage was around 435 calories. Little known fact about Chick-Fil-A is that all the entrée items are under 500 calories and the chicken is breaded on-site, as opposed to being breaded in a factory and shipped that way. If you’re going to eat fast food, eat Chick-Fil-A.

After lunch we headed to Dick’s Sporting Goods where I went looking for some new cross-trainers. I’m a big fan of New Balance, since they make their shoes in wide widths. I’ve been wearing their shoes for years now, starting with the 620, then the 621, 622 and now, the 623. Let me tell you, these are some COMFORTABLE shoes. Almost feels like you’re wearing slippers! Mrs. T. and I both left with a new pair of trainers. I wore mine last night and did nearly two miles on my break and no complaints from my dogs.

Tonight is going to be another drinking night, though, so I had better get my act together and sweat off a few. I leave you with the following:

“If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.”- Maya Angelou

Today’s weight: 303.0 (Down 17 pounds since last Thursday)