Inanimate objects
Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Anyway, I had a conversation with my bathroom scale this morning. I heard it grumbling unhappily under the lower shelf of the table I keep it hidden under.

“What is your problem?” I asked it, feeling quite put off with it as I went about my morning affairs.

“I’m lonely,” it said. “Not one pays any attention to me. The closet I’ve had to any attention is the mop you run under here once in awhile...and that’s disgusting.”

“I find it hard to pity you,” I say, “As the last time I set foot on you shrieked like a girl then started reciting the 23rd Psalm.”

“That was a joke...”

“Uhuh.”

“I’d never do that again. I swear.”

“Right!”

“Please? I feel so...useless...”

“No, because if after all the dieting I’ve been doing, I found out I’ve gotten no where, a certain cheap piece of junk scale might just find itself going out the window.”

This silences him for a bit.

“Pretty please? Don’t you want to know? You’ve been such a good girl...”

So I scoot the scale out.

“Ah. Doing the hand on the wall, other hand on the table trick again, eh?” the scale said, laughing.

“Of course. I want an accurate reading,” I inform it.

I lift one foot...

“Help! Help! Oh, heavens, I’m too young to die!” the scale screams.

I sigh, and scoot the scale back under the table with my foot. I really have no desire to know what I weigh, anyway.

Permalink Cindy scribed this at 1:13 AM 4 comments

4 Comments:

If my scale talked to me like that, I'd toss 'im out the window! My scale says different things to me, however. Things like, "What? Are you here again? Still eating cookies, are you? What the hell makes you think you've lost any weight? Ooh, look a whole 1 pound. Big deal! It'll be back tomorrow. You wanna lose weight? Then give up the cookies, you nut!" Next day: "See? There it is! Off one day, back on the next. I don't want you stepping on me again until you've made some real progress, you dolt! Now get outta here!"

My scale is actually rather encouraging, in an odd sort of way (if that can be called odd). I never say anything to my scale. He won't let me. He's got this thing for monologues.

By Blogger g d townshende, at 3:59 AM  

*giggles* I've been tempted to throw it out completely...but...well, at least it has a personality?

By Blogger Cindy, at 11:15 PM  

LOL I suppose that's one way to look at it, Cindy. :D

By Blogger g d townshende, at 5:04 PM  

Where have you gone? Are you still there?

By Blogger g d townshende, at 5:20 AM  

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