Randolph’s Diet

th[4]Randolph and Martin waddled and worked their way through the dinning room until they found their customary table. They sat and scanned the menus only to see if something new had been added.

“The time used to be when we whisked through this dinning room like fish,” Martin said. “We’ve become fat and successful. People now have to move out of their way and slide their chairs to let us through. We have made it, my friend.”
The waitress jotted their orders on a pad.
“If you don’t mind,” Randolph said to the waitress. “When you bring my meal, may I have an extra bowl.”
“Certainly, sir,” the waitress said. “Will that be all?”
“Yes, my dear,” Randolph said and the waitress quickly left for the kitchen.
‘An odd request’ Martin thought and he and Randolph continued talking until their meals were brought by the waitress.
Randolph quickly scooped a spoonful from each item he ordered and placed it in the requested extra bowl: he did it with the bread, a cut of steak, a spoon full of potato, likewise with green beans, and lastly the custard pie.
“What on earth are you doing?” Martin said.
“Dieting,” Randolph said.
“I don’t understand,” Martin said.
“It’s simple,” Randolph said. “My obesity started with wanting just one more spoonful. It never seemed like much. I mean what’s the harm of an extra spoonful? It became two and three and so on. You add weight one spoonful at a time. It takes awhile and suddenly you are buying the same size your chubby uncle Waldo wore. There were snickers behind his back. I suppose it is the same with me. And Uncle Waldo died an unhealthy flabby man of fifty-five.”
“How long has it taken you to put the weight on?” Martin mused rhetorically. “You haven’t nearly enough time left of your life to take it off. Enjoy what remains; eat, drink, and be merry.”
“I‘m merely reversing the process. Tomorrow I plan to deposit two spoonfuls of each item in the extra bowl and so on, until my meals are about half the size brought to me. I‘m thus doing with all my meals,” Randolph said and added with a chuckle, “I suppose by this time next year there may be room for another guest at our table.”
“What is your motivation?” Martin said. “Another woman or is the present one looking elsewhere for a trimmer model?”
“None of those,” Randolph said. “Allow me to propose something to you, my friend, Martin; would you give up a bite of food for five more minutes of life?”
“It depends on what was being offered,” Martin chuckled. “The cherry cheesecake served at Marconi’s is to die for.”
“I thought so,” Randolph said. “Some eat to live others live to eat.”