Grant smiled when Betty, his waitress, brought breakfast. Grant, and his friend Horace, came to Frenchy’s Diner often to eat breakfast and share stories. Today was their first breakfast of the new year. Grant arrived on time, but Horace was late. Grant was famished and ordered. “I’m awful hungry this morning.” he told Betty. “Why don’t you bring me a tall stack of hot cakes with chocolate sauce and whipped cream? And throw a side of bacon and some hash browns with them.”
“Sure. Anything else?” inquired Betty.
“Another cup of coffee. And more cream, please.”
Grant was chowing down on his breakfast when Horace arrived. Horace apologized for his lateness, blaming it on Henrietta, the dog, traffic, and the seven emergency vehicles that blocked his street that morning.
“What was the emergency?” Grant asked.
“Fire on Barrel Cactus Drive. No one was hurt, but it sure made a mess of the neighborhood.”
Betty walked up to take Horace’s order. Horace glanced at Grant’s plate and said, “I definitely don’t want what he’s having. I want to live to see 2025.”
“What’s wrong with my food?” Grant quizzed Horace. “It’s quite delicious, and after the party we had last night, and into the morning, I need a little protein to absorb the libations.”
“And grease, and fat, and enough carbs to fuel a marathon runner for a month. I’ll have a bowl of oatmeal, some orange juice, and black coffee, Betty.”
Grant listened to Horace’s order and remarked, “At least I’ll enjoy 2024.”
To that, Horace responded, “I thought you vowed to eat better this year. You’re not getting any younger, and you did put on a few extra pounds last year.”
“I try to eat better, but I’m always confused as to how. They say this and others say that. Who knows what to believe?”
“What are you talking about?” Horace asked. “It’s pretty simple. Just eat sensibly, and don’t eat too much.”
“It’s not that easy.” Grant interrupted. “I tried last year to change my diet. I ate only natural foods. They tasted like cow dung, but I kept with it for a few months. Then I read an article that said most people die of natural causes. So I quit.”
Horace shook his head in disbelief just as Betty brought his order and refilled Grant’s coffee cup. They eat in silence for a couple of minutes. Horace looked up to see Grant wiping bacon grease off his hands. “You know what that fat does to your arteries?” Horace asked. “You’re looking at a one-way ticket to by-pass surgery.”
Grant commented without looking up. “You sure about that? I’ve never heard of a pig dying from a heart attack.”
“You’re not a pig, Grant. At least, not all the time.”
“I’ve tried a bunch or diets. They all promise the same thing. Lose weight, feel better, and instantly appeal to the opposite sex.”
Which of these gimmick diets did you try?” Horace asked.
Grant rattled off a list of diets. “First was the Mediterranean Diet. Wholesome food from Italy and Greece. After a month of eating pizza and drinking Ouzo, I gained ten pounds and woke up a lot with a headache.”
“That’s not what the Mediterranean Diet means.” Horace jumped in. “It’s a lot of grains and seafood.”
Grant took a swig of coffee and continued. “Even seafood is confusing. My doctor said I should eat more seafood. I was good with that until I found out Goldfish Crackers don’t count.”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?” Horace asked.
“I try.” Grant pleaded. “I tried GOLO™. They promised I’d lose weight without worry. The only thing that went low was my bank account. After that, I tried the Paleolithic diet. You know, the one the cavemen followed. Turns out there aren’t many mastodons around to eat.”
“You really buy the stuff they’re selling?” Horace asked Grant.
“Maybe I watch What the Health on Netflix too much. They preached the advantages of the South Beach Diet and the Beverly Hills Diet. I’ve never been to Miami Beach or Beverly Hills, and don’t plan on going to either. They need to have a diet for around here. Maybe the Mesa Mess Diet or the Arizona Starve You to the Bona Diet.”
“Is that it?” Horace inquired.
“No. I even tried cleansing.”
Horace grimaced. “No Shit?” he said.
“At the beginning, yes, but after a while, none at all.”
“You don’t need to follow any of those fads.” Horace replied. “Just eat good food, drink lots of water, and don’t keep going back for thirds. It’s not hard to do.”
“I hear you, Horace. I’ll try harder this year. That’s my resolution. I have one question, though.”
“What’s that?” Horace asked.
“When we go to Suds on Wednesday nights, do we need to drink Lite beer?”
Horace looked Grant in the eyes and replied, “Let’s not get hasty. After all, we still want to enjoy 2024. Right?”