It was just the other day when listening to a group of women in an elevator I was struck by how many woman congregate to lose weight around this time of the year.
It’s always the pool party, wedding season judgement day that gets girls heading to the gym and buying laxatives by the dozen. Gym memberships from New Year resolutions phase get dusted off and taken on the town. Shown a good time. They get on a first name basis with the guy who will be punishing them for their last summer post party season, all of winter’s creamy indulgence.
They will swap horror stories of crunches, lunges and bootcamp. One more stiff than the other these girls will do their funny walk down to the coffee shop convincing themselves that the latte they are about to have forms as part of a protein! Score! We are making our targets one drink at a time.
I say – I’m having a high tea this Sunday. Are you coming?
Deathly silence. Only crickets chirping. Lips quivering they say no thanks. They pretend they have the will power to say no to the cakes, scones and chocolates that lay ahead. One by one they quietly come to me. I am told they will all buy a ticket as a donation very loud and clear and they are all in agreement.
As the week dwindles closer I am cornered by email, the corrider, even the toilet cubicle. “I’ll be there. I’ll pop in just for a minute to show my support but …. don’t tell the others.”