Tony Baloney – Why you no fat no more?

 

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I’ve told you about how great it is to be a regular and how nice it is to have people remembering you, but sometimes that’s not the case at all.  

 

 

3 signs

 

There was a little bodega run by a Chinese family across from work that I used to hit up every morning on my way into the office. Being OCD and a creature of habit, I used get my healthy breakfast of two Diet Pepsi’s and an individually wrapped chocolate chip muffin every day before work. This was before I started running, before I was eating healthier, and way before I lost sixty pounds. Yes, that is a lot of weight and yes, I realize I was a fat ass…thanks for reminding me.

 

 no more mr fat guy

 

As part of my morning routine, I’d get off the train, hit the convenience store and then head to work. Every day it would feel like forever waiting on that damn line in the store, but it was right across the street and you kinda get used to it after a while. When I say it was a long line, I mean like twenty people on the line long winding throughout the store. Picture a conga line doing the mannequin challenge.

 

 ling line

 

Fast forward to the new and improved, skinny me getting bottled water and a protein bar! As I was almost at the register for my turn to pay, I made the amateur mistake of turning my head to check out the candy display and see if I should tempt myself with some delectable Swedish Fish (the only seafood that I eat). Before I knew it, the cashier was screaming out “Next. Next. Next customer. Nex…WHOA!!! WHY YOU NO FAT NO MORE!!!!!!” A hush came over the store as everyone looked to see who she was talking about. Of course I turned away from the candy and momentarily though about dropping my water and protein bar to sprint out the front door, but she waved me over to her and shouted “COME ON!” I was terrified that she’d start screaming even louder or I would have let someone else go ahead of me while she continued on just as loud. “I can’t believe you no fat no more! What happened? You so different?” she exclaimed as loudly as she possibly could. I threw money at her to try and distract her and get her to shut up but it was to no avail. I tried my best to pretend like I didn’t hear her shouting and just smiled without looking back at the line of tittering patrons waiting their turn behind me wondering just how fat I actually was since I didn’t look all that good now…A normal person would never go back into a store after that, but did I mention that it was directly across the street? I don’t care if she started shouting “Run Fat Boy Run” while throwing Ring Dings at me – the OCD wasn’t letting me break my routine for anything…

 

 Bologna 2

 

Flash forward a few months later to a very stressful, meeting-filled day, and I was in dire need of some comfort food. When life beats me down, food always makes it better so I headed over to the bodega. I know you’re thinking that’s not a healthy response to stress and that’s exactly how eating disorders start, but nobody likes a know it all! As I was searching the displays for something tasty to make everything all better, I decided that we were at defcon three and hit the deli counter for the only remedy: Bologna and cheese! It’s not something that I eat often, but it reminds me of when I was a little kid and always cheers me up. It also reminds me of a day when my sister Marlene ate almost two pounds of bologna forcing my poor little cousin to go to Sailing camp with nothing to eat for lunch. Just like Brooke Shields in the 80’s, she wasn’t one to let anything stand between her and her Boar’s Head. When questioned about her excessive Bologna intake, she defensively sneered “If you can’t feed me send me home!” Some people have happy Disney memories of their childhood, I have random Bologna fantasies: Tomato/Tomah-to.  

cant feed quote

If she knew that my sister could eat like she had two assholes, Mother Theresa might rethink this quote…

 

 

 

So, I head over to the Deli counter and asked for bologna and cheese on a roll with a tiny bit of mayonnaise. I like my sandwich to be dry and by that I mean so dry that you’ll actually start to cough. I really don’t like mayo, but a little drop here and there is OK. How is it that no one in the entire service industry is able to comprehend what the word “little” means when ordering food? I usually don’t even bother ordering mayo because people never listen and you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment. Ask for a little ice and the cup is full; ask for a “little” dressing on your salad and you’ll be calling in the Coast Guard because the lettuce starts to look like little boats drowning in the ocean.

 

 max.png

 

My friend Max was with me and mocking me as I ordered. He isn’t what you’d normally consider funny, but proceeded to ask the counter attendants if they also thought it was as ridiculous as he did that my name was Tony and I was ordering bologna. All of a sudden three guys that don’t understand 95% of the language were hysterical laughing and saying it back to each other “Tony Baloney” while pointing at me. I find it so interesting that in the English language there are so many vital and beautiful words or phrases that one can learn, but the takeaway here was “Tony Baloney!” Now a normal person would have maintained some level of dignity and got the hell out of that bodega, but I really wanted that sandwich and they were right across the street…     

 

Tony Baloney 1

 

 

In hindsight, maybe heading to the place where random cashiers shout about how fat I am isn’t the best place to make me feel better on a stressful day. No one said I was a quick learner, but I got the message now!

 

effin balogna sandwiches.png

 

 

The Perks of being Regular

its great to be regular

 

No, this post isn’t about pooping! Come on people, not every post is about that – give me some credit will you! I’m the number one Immodium Abuser, but it seems like you’re the one focusing on Number Two. When I say being regular, I mean keeping the same routine and eating the same things…

 

OCD and you know it

 

As my wife can surely attest, my OCD has been known to get in the way every so often, but also it has helped in a few ways. For instance, when I find something that I’m able to eat, I stick to it like glue and don’t veer off path. I will eat the same thing day after day; you know I’m all for a good routine.

ocd might die

 

Saying that I’m a picky eater is kind of an understatement; I’m a downright pain in the ass. I have accepted it a long time ago and can admit it. I’m not being dramatic either – I’m annoyingly ridiculous when it comes to food. I don’t eat anything sweet, sour, spicy, ethnic, fried, battered, flavorful, tangy, zesty, poached, powdered, etc. Basically if the menu has an adjective when describing the entree – I know it’s not for me. The blander the better and I mean Senior citizen, nursing home food kind of bland.

 

white rice

 

My absolute favorite meal is white rice! Seriously – not ice cream, not pizza – white rice is my jam! Besides the fact that it’s binding (which is a gift in itself) it’s easy-to-make and it’s filling. I don’t mean that I like rice and people think “why don’t you just eat brown rice because it’s more nutritious” or wild rice because it has more flavor. No way! Plain white rice is better and I’ll tell you why: If you’re eating a bowl of white rice and you happen to look down and see something black you know immediately that it isn’t rice and you stop eating. If you’re eating brown rice or wild rice, you can’t tell if something crawled or fell into the bowl. It’s dark and crunchy but, was that a bug or a kernel of rice? If it’s white you know it’s safe to continue on. It may sound crazy, but you’ll thank me the next time you look down into your bowl and see a little black fleck trying to burrow through your warm scoop of rice…

 

polly

It’s not so much that I have a food allergy as it’s a food avoidance because I’m terrified of the consequences. For me taking Imodium before I eat anything is the equivalent of having insurance on your car. You wouldn’t drive a car without insurance would you? Same principle and remember: no one likes the guy on the train that shits his pants in a suit no matter how funny he is! Remember Along Came Polly with the Ferret? That’d be me. If you haven’t seen that movie – go get it on ITunes right now!

 

done correctly

 

I’m a creature of habit, so if I can find a place that can put up with my pain in the ass ways – I’m loyal and don’t change. As in, I’ll seriously eat there every single day loyal. At work, my friend Beena turned me on to a Chinese restaurant that was really clean and had good food. I was suspicious of her because the last time I listened to her, we went to a Chinese restaurant where they had “traditional” seating and we ended up sitting on the floor like stray dogs and we were forced to take off our shoes.

 

sitting on the floor

 

I’m not sure what was scarier: the seating arrangements on the floor, the waitress slipping while trying to serve soup to the people sitting on said floor, or of Beena’s footwear of choice for the lunch: Khaki pants short enough to showcase her white tube socks with black Michael Jacksonish looking slip-on shoes…It was a brave fashion choice: not a good choice by any means, but a brave one nonetheless.

 

Beena's shoes.JPG

 

Leary of finding a piece of cat mixed in with my grilled chicken, I was afraid to try another place she recommended, but relented after I did a drive-by to check it out. It was busy, seemed really clean, had nice soap to wash my hands in the bathroom, and an A grade in the window! I went in expecting it to be bad, but low and behold, I was blown away. Beena and Imi know how I eat, so they ordered for me and all of a sudden, the clouds parted and the sun shone down one me: All at once I had found the Cheers to my Norm! It was like a dream as Joann the waitress put down my plate with a beautiful stack of white rice scooped and sculpted ever so gently next to a perky little stack of steamed vegetables lying alongside a gloriously plain pile of grilled chicken drier and blander than my last boss’ personality! It was perfection on a plate that I had been searching eons for. I’m not sure what type of feline special Imi and Beena were eating that day because I couldn’t concentrate on anything besides my lunch; I was captivated by that entrée. I had never been a big fan of Chinese food before, but I was converted that day!

 

Me and Joann

 

One bite and I was hooked; we started going there two and three times a week. I actually took a picture of that delicious meal so I could show it to the waitress the next time in case they couldn’t tell what I wanted, but in just a matter of days the legend was born: The Tony Special. When I walk in now, it’s like a scene out of Entourage and I’m Vincent Chase – no menu necessary!!! I sit down and they all know what I want. I literally never need a menu again because it was a given what I’ll be ordering. Do you have any idea how nice that is? It’s the closest I’ll ever get to being treated like a celebrity.

 

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The Famous Tony Special!

 

 

Next time, forget the perks – we’ll explore the perils of being a regular…

 

food is undercooked

 

 

Watching Dirty Movies with my Wife’s Mom

My little Black Swan Natalie Portman was waking up and feeling a little bit frisky so she decided to follow that old yellow book slogan and let her fingers do the walking. It was dark in her bedroom and she went to work as the camera panned down slowly, but I couldn’t appreciate it. Don’t get me wrong – she’s a “Hit That” hottie, she was down to her skivvies, and the mood was right. All that was missing was some red wine and scented candles, but nothing. 

Looks like Padme has gone over to The Dark Side

Don’t get nervous, you’re not reading the start of my testimonial for a performance enhancer. And no, I have not traded up my Imodium for Viagra. I am all for independent women showing that they don’t need a partner for everything, but I’m not sure why this keeps happening. Black Swan was the THIRD time that I was at a movie where a woman on screen proved that she wasn’t the Queen of the Castlewhile I was sitting next to my Wife’s Mother!!!

Three times! I know this might sound like the intro to an episode of The Maury Povich show, but it’s not like we’re going to a peep show to see these films. For God Sakes, it was an AMC Theatre!    

Mila munching makes many malapropos moments ...

Looking back on the first time that it happened, it almost seems like it was her fault and I’m not usually a finger pointer unless there’s a fart involved. Me, my wife, and her mother were at the movie theatre heading in to see Dinner Rush (a great movie with Danny Aiello that you should put at the top of your Netflix Que if you haven’t seen it yet.) It got great reviews but her mother heard that it was violent and doesn’t like those types of movies, so we got tickets instead for Innocence  and we headed in…

Seems innocent enough, but looks can be deceiving

None of us knew anything about the movie, but it was about a couple reuniting after many years apart, so we went for it. Who knew it would turn out to be geriatric porn? All of a sudden, the 70-something year old actress in the movie got naked on her couch after a phone call with her former lover and then gave herself a “touch up.” DID I MENTION THAT SHE WAS NAKED! AND IN HER MID 70’S!!! When I tell you that the old lady on that couch wasn’t the only one violated that day, I mean it. I squeezed my equally as repulsed wife’s hand and whispered in her ear “Oh my God, why did your mother choose this movie?” She had no idea that would happen, but I also couldn’t get that horrible sight out of my mind. I wasn’t so much embarrassed that I saw that in front of my mother-in-law but that I saw that at all. There are certain things that one should never be subjected to and trust me when I say that there is nothing more disturbing than the sight of a saggy, old, AARP tittie wiggling around while an old lady works it on her sofa…

If the first time was her fault, the second time was definitely mine. I have a well documented obsession with Nicole Kidman and Margot at the Wedding had just opened so my wife and I were on the way to see it. Her mother called and she was leaving lunch with her grandmother near where we were seeing it, so we invited them to go to the movie with us.

Not now - her Grandmother is watching!

Everything was going along swimmingly until Nicole got in bed and then started getting restless under the covers. Once again, I couldn’t fully enjoy the situation. I got a knot in my stomach and looked over at my wife, who looked over at her mother, who looked over at her grandmother, but Gran apparently had no idea what was going on. Thank God – she just thought Nicole Kidman was having trouble falling asleep. We all left the theatre quietly after the movie and all I could mutter was “I didn’t know…I didn’t know.” As weird as it was with my Mother-in-Law – it felt ten times stranger with her mother there too…   

Needless to say,  it doesn’t matter if me or my mother-in-law are both over 17 – I don’t need the MPAA ratings to tell me that it isn’t OK to see Blue Valentine with her – it’s off the list. Tangled, here we come! 

Blue Valentine - Absolutely Not!

Eye believe that you really need a mint Sir!!!

I want to send a message out there to everyone who is a hard-working service provider day in and day out – Hygiene is not optional so please BRUSH YOUR FUCKING TEETH PEOPLE!

I went to get an eye exam in order to renew my license this afternoon and I expected to possibly wait a little while if there were other people ahead of me. What I didn’t expect was to get nauseous and vomit in the parking lot. I am not one to complain or be dramatic (OK, who am I kidding – Of course I am!) but come on. 

As I was walking into the exam room, the doctor greeted me and he was seriously ancient. If he was less than 80 years old I am a monkey’s uncle. I’m not usually one to discriminate against a person because of age, but seriously when you’re hunched over and shimmying across an eight by eight room using baby steps and it takes you three minutes to get to the credenza – it might be time to hang up that lab coat.

(Don’t even get me started about that ancient old man who ran over my brother Angelo twice in the gas station parking lot! Yes, you read that correctly, I said he ran him over twice! He hit him then drove right over his body and then upon realizing that he hit something, he put the car in reverse and then proceeded to back over Angelo. The driver had suffered a stroke a few months before but never stopped driving. He actually had his name and address written down on a piece of paper in his glove compartment because he couldn’t remember who he was. It has been years since that happened, and my brother is finally just starting to think that it is as funny as we do. Who gets hit twice by the same car? He really got hurt, but that’s not the point. Seriously – twice?)

Apparently, when you’re licensed as an eye doctor in Connecticut, you’re appointed to the position for life sort of like a Supreme Court Justice. That doctor was panting and breathing so heavily like Darth Vader and I immediately started getting concerned in case something happened to him while I was in that chair. Truth be told, I wasn’t especially concerned for his well-being, I was just terrified that I wouldn’t be able to get my eye exam done today if something happened to him. Selfish maybe, but I needed that eye exam done today.

I sat in that chair as he got closer and closer to my face until he was all up in my grill and then it hit me like a brick. Apparently, that doctor had a shit sandwich for lunch because his breath was absolutely disgusting. I have a weak stomach and am not good in situations like this. I had taken my contact lenses out for the exam, but as he edged in closer to talk to me, I almost died. That musty breath was just the appetizer because even with my contacts out and everything blurry, I could see a small topiary shrub growing out of each one of his nostrils. Thank God my contacts were out, because those hedges needed to be clipped and I couldn’t even see them that clearly. He has the bushiest nose hair that I have ever seen in my life. Picture broccoli sprouts strategically places inside each nostril branch side hanging out. He actually had more hair in each nostril than all of the hair that I have on my head and my back combined. How does he not have family members forcing clippers on that nose hair? For that matter, where is the Board of Health? There must be some code against that. As he turned to get his light off the table, I couldn’t help but notice that he was also wearing white earmuffs which I thought was really strange since its August. Then I realized that they weren’t earmuffs at all, it was his ear hair. That fuzzy white ear scarf started in the center of his ear and then wrapped around running all the way up and around the lobe on a trail to nowhere. He was a nice old man, but it almost looked like he was a cave man with prehistoric grooming rituals. Needless to say that when he pushed his face right up close to mine and said “Is it clear now” – I almost died. That was the absolute worst thing that has ever been that close to my face. I would rather have a sweaty camper from my aunt’s Fat Camp place his ass gingerly on my forehead after eating nachos and bean dip than be that close to that dentist’s face again.  

As I tried to rush my way out of there, he just kept getting closer and closer and asking if it was getting clearer. I now know what a hostage situation is like and exactly what it feels like to be tortured. I thought for sure Ashton Kutcher was gonna jump out and punk me, but I wasn’t that lucky.  I kept trying to hold my breath, but I’m not Shelly Winters in The Poseidon Adventure and I just couldn’t hold my breath for longer than fifteen seconds.

After it was finally over, I headed out to the reception area to find a set of glasses, but then thought better of it. They were trying to find me a pair of glasses and offering up what frames they thought would look nice on my face, but I wasn’t having any more of it. I told them that I changed my mind about getting glasses and bolted for the door.

I thanked him and rushed out the door so fast that they had to call me back in because I left without getting my credit card back from her after paying for the exam. I was dry heaving in the parking lot and looking for something to drink but the piss warm Diet Pepsi only made me spit up a little. I lightly vomited and felt much better, but couldn’t get the taste out of my mouth. It was like I had been gang raped by gorillas. It was almost like he burned that stench onto me and no amount of gum or binaca could make it better. Needless to say I skipped lunch after that! 

A little back-story about the leadings up to today’s ordeal and why I didn’t have the time to go somewhere else: My Driver’s License is about to expire and since I wear contact lenses, I needed to get an eye exam or they wouldn’t renew it. I have a New York State Driver’s license even though I have lived and worked in Connecticut for the past five years. I refuse to switch it because the Connecticut DMV won’t let me use the picture from the New York Driver’s License – where I look amazing!  That photo was taken over ten years ago when I was still in college – when I had a full head of hair and two chins fewer than my current state, so it is a great shot. It’s a really good picture and I intend on using that for my AARP membership card many years from now. For some sadistic reason, Connecticut wants to scare people and put what my current-day self looks like on a license so I refuse to allow them. I actually look like I have swallowed the person in the picture on my current license, but I don’t care. I have been a victim of driver’s license photo hit-and-runs before, so I am holding on to this one for as long as I can. When I first got my license all those years ago, no one told me that pimpstache’s weren’t “in” anymore. My hair was rumpled from being under my hat and paired with that pimpstache creeping above my lip it could have easily been mistaken for a mug shot. I think back to that pimpstache and wonder not only why my friends didn’t tell me that it looked ridiculous but also, more importantly, “Why the hell were all those girls having sex with me?” Back then, I was the poster boy for the old phrase “it’s what’s on the inside that counts” because my face was working overtime against anything my personality was putting out there!

I actually got into it with a representative from Bank of America about my license recently because our car loan is through them and they were questioning why my wife had a Connecticut License, why our residence and my work are in Connecticut, but my license was in New York. I thought long and hard before answering her and then proceeded to make up a convoluted story about my wife and I having problems and that was forced to stay at my Mother-in-law’s house and that’s why I have my license registered there. I actually vote with an absentee ballot too so everything works out fine for me. My wife of course thinks that I’m a complete Ass for telling a random stranger that I’m having marital problems instead of admitting that I’m an idiot, I’m shallow, and that I’m trying desperately to hold onto the past – but I say as long as I get to keep that photo who cares!  

So here we are. I’ve sent the paperwork in to renew my NY License and even though I was violently abused to get it – it definitely is worth it. I stand by that picture and will go through great lengths to keep it! People, the point and the takeaway of this is “Consider Oral Hygiene to be a requirement, not just a hobby!”