Stephen King is
the master of horror. I also think he may be a weight loss genius. Does anyone
remember “Quitters, Inc”? “Quitters, Inc” was a short story published by Stephen
King back in the late ‘70’s. Part of the "Night Shift" collection. The basic plot of the story surrounds a man who
enlists a company to help him stop smoking, and then lose weight. There is some early ambiguity as to what their
tactics will be, but the basic idea is that the company follows the man and spies on him, and as he acts outside the best interest of his goal they torture the people he loves. Shocking people, cutting off peoples fingers, etc... It’s
a great story. As is the case with most Stephen King stories, it slowly builds and becomes
creepier and creepier. Or, at least that’s what I hear. I have never read it. I
have seen the movie though. Reading is for fucking idiots. I have shit to do.
If any book is worth reading, it will eventually be made into a movie anyway.
Once the movie is made, only an asshole would choose the less efficient story delivery
method. If you need to read this story, rent “Cats Eye”.
I need this. I
have been lacking focus of late. I am super busy, and while I have been able to stay on track, I can feel some momentum slipping. Sometimes I get my priorities out of line. Today
is a great example of this. I have become friends with a few of the people at
the gym. By “a few” I of course mean I am friends with every dumb shit in the
place. I have worked out 4 days in a row and was contemplating taking today off from
my workouts. Let my body rest, eat some chicken thighs, watch college baseball,
JO. Basically the high school “sick day” agenda. Instead, I decided at the last minute, to go in
and workout. I had a hard day of work and needed to decompress a little and
felt that maybe getting my blood flowing would help. I intended to do some core
work and concentrate on areas I have been neglecting. This is where the
relationships I have developed at the gym come in to play. I ran into one of my
buddies, and he was having a hard day physically. Sore, bloated, aching… I
think he was menstruating. His list of ailments read like a Midol ad. He said
he had intended to lift today, but decided to spend an hour walking on the
treadmill instead. When I ran into him, he was adamant that I walk on the
treadmills with him. The problem is, the treadmill makes my back stiffen up. It’s
something about the way my feet strike the platform. It makes my lower back
lock up. So what did I do? I allowed that whore monger to talk me into walking
on the treadmill with him. In order to save my back, I walked at a slower pace.
My friend found my pace pretty funny. He made a few snide comments about the
fact that I was walking so slowly. So how did I respond…. Fuck, this is how I
get in my own way… I responded to his idiocy by going even slower. It was my
version of a middle finger. To answer the inevitable question that this
statement created; Yes, I fully understand this only hurts me. I also understand
that I have a tendency to act outside my own best interest.
This is where “Quitters,
Inc” comes in. I need this. I need someone, or a group of people, to run surveillance
on me and scare me straight. I had this happen once before. Back in my early 20’s
I found it funny to disappear from parties and return missing articles of
clothing. My buddies didn’t find this as funny as I did. Come to think if it, I
don’t know that this was appreciated by anyone at the time. I was like the
Vincent Van Gogh of unexpected ass showings. No one appreciated my art form
during my time, but now it’s the stuff of legend. Jerred tried to go “Quitters,
Inc” on me circa 1999. Once during a nude incident at a camping trip with my
friends, Jerred sternly announced two things:
1) If I see it, I kick you in it.
2) If you take your pants off again, I will
proactively start calling you “needle dick” in front of everyone we meet. As
the night went on Jared shortened “needle dick” to “Deedle” as we discussed the impending punishment during a very professional meeting of the collective minds.
What was the
end result of this very real series of threats from my friends? Later that
night my scrotum was reflecting the camp fire like a damn drive in movie screen,
while Jared sang “Deedle” to the beat of every pop song in the last 20 years. I
also don’t know that this new nickname of “Deedle” had the desired deterrent
effect. I ordered 100 pairs of sunglasses with “Deedle” on them, and handed
them out to anyone who wanted some. I quickly ran out, and have now ordered my second
hundred pairs.
This failed
attempt at aversion therapy doesn’t mean the system is broken. It means I am
not easily embarrassed or frightened. I do think that this aversion therapy
could work for me. I am asking you all for help. How? How can you help me? If
you see me acting outside my own best interest, assault me in an appropriate
manner. Don’t be lazy and just default to slapping my face or kicking me in the
groin. Be creative. Have some god damn ingenuity. For instance, if you see me
drinking a diet soda, bat it out of my hand. If you see me eating a meatball
sub, push Abram to the ground. If you see me dogging it at the gym, cut Myles
pinky off. The point is, be creative… be mean spirited.. do something that
you think will be in my greater good. Think Stephen King meets Saw 2.
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