What would you do for unsuspecting victims without them? I mean, really.
So there I am, staying with my friend James. He is a lovely man. A kind man. A thoughtful man.
So thoughtful, indeed, that during the entirety of my visit with him he has arranged that all his scheduled appointments take place between the hours of 9am and noon, knowing well that I shall be (and, indeed, was) dead to the world during this time.
A kind, thoughtful man.
And so today, it was with a sense of shock that I endured the following exchange.
Now, I’m not the sylph I was at twenty-one, ’tis true. Nor yet the Amazon I was at thirty-six, when I ran the Marathon (4:33:09, quite respectable thankyouverymuch). Yet, I am 25 pounds lighter than I was in January and have the ability to take off the jeans I got then, which were skin tight, without actually going to the trouble of unzipping them.
Still.
We were getting ready to leave the house. James wished, as a thoughtful friend, to facilitate my ability to take coffee along with me, although it must be said that this could have been purely selfish in motivation, me being much easier to get along with when I have caffeine to put in my system and a beverage to occupy my mouth instead of talking.
So he suggested I pour the hearty mug of Anniversary Blend I had in my hands into a travel mug and we could hit the road. The problem is, he did so using the following wording:
“Here’s an old chubby. It’s perfect for you.”












Jesus, I hope I spelled that right. I am only genetically Catholic, after all. No doubt The Sister, who rode our Catholicest of the Catholic family name all the way to a very senior job in the Catholic school system (which, of course, neither of us attended although we did go to Baptist day camp), will correct me.