You may be surprised to find out, but when I was a
teenager, I had a severe
weight problem. I'm talking huge. I know, I know, you're staring at me now thinking "But
Nick, you're a hunky 265
pound,
6 foot 2 inch tall gorgeous sexy
linebacker.
Pure beefcake. How in the world is it possible that you had a weight problem?"
Well, you see, I liked
creme horns and
Little Debbie snacks- a lot. So much in fact that by the time I was 16 I weighed in at
416 pounds. I devoured
McDonald's cheeseburgers and had the phone number of
Domino's Pizza memorized.
Diet Coke wasn't for me but
Crystal Pepsi was.
Tofu-smofu,
health food-schmelf-food all I wanted back then was
greasy,
delicious,
salty French fries. Hey,
potatoes are vegetables- I could eat
deep-fat-fried vegetables all day long and everybody won. I got my favorite and mom was satisfied that at least
I was eating vegetables.
I went to a high school in a
Texas town full of
future football heros. All the jocks had
bad-ass grid-iron nicknames like "
Freight Train" or "
Killer." I was nicknamed "
Trash-Bag" after
Hefty Trash bags. I didn't even play football on the field. I was an
intimidation tool. Thanks Coach Winters! Mostly people around school were
nice to my face but mean behind my back.
To say the least of it all, I wasn't really popular. The only reason I was invited to the one party I attended in high school is because I was on the football team. There was only one girl who took the time to get to know me and be my friend. Before her,
my only friend had been the lunch lady.
Her name was
Mary. She was one of those girls
who didn't know she was beautiful. She was told from
time to time from
different guys, but the words never really caught her ears. Mary was teased a lot for spending her days in the
library, divulged in
V.C. Andrews books. Her nights were mostly spent at my house watching
A-Team re-runs on tape and playing with
Rubik's Cubes. Sometimes we would kick it to
Michael Jackson or
Madonna. She never introduced me to any other friends of hers and I'm not even sure she had anyone else besides me. I met her brother
Charlie once, who spent his days playing
Pac-Man and teased her for being a loner.
I always thought she was
gorgeous and
loved her.
Not only for her looks but for her personality also. Mary told me
she loved me one time too.
Like a brother of course, but still she said it. It didn't matter to me back then how she loved me, as long as she did.
I ate her love constantly like a nine-piece bucket of chicken and a
super-sized
Coke. And believe me, it was always
scrumptious.
I don't know much about Mary these days. She's probably married to some
computer geek who
proposed to her in Perl code with children who swear by
Harry Potter. Where ever she is,
I hope she knows she changed my life.
This node is fictional and inspired by TheAlien's wish for someone to tell him a story. I hope you enjoyed it.