The Flo-Glo Paradox

Everybody has seen road workers wearing those very bright fluorescent yellow and green colors and not  because they want to make a fashion statement but rather for safety's sake.  They just don't want to get hit by a moving vehicle, hence my decision to call it Flo-Glo, they keep the traffic flowing all the while glowing.  You know what I mean, this stuff.

Anyway, there seem to be quite a number of people out there who've decided to take these colors and turn them into a fashion statement... a T-shirt fashion statement.  Now, I have absolutely no problem seeing men wearing T-shirts; it's a comfortable piece of clothing.  I wear them, usually not out in public, but around the house.  Back when my job kept me office bound, I wore them daily under my dress shirts.  Some people can actually wear them out in public and look damn good.  My friend Larry, back when he spent a lot of time at the gym, often wore T-shirts when he went out, and always one size too small.

Unfortunately not everybody is like Larry.  And these colors are very bright.  They're like little magnets that even the most steely-eyed person is drawn to, which is why there's a paradox.  What was initially meant to be a color to provide safety while keeping traffic flowing, is now being worn by many who either don't know better or who simply don't care.  I'm talking about guys with girth.  When it's a size XXL and it's still a size too small, you shouldn't be wearing it... anywhere.  Here's an example:  This past Tuesday I had some guy come up to the paint desk and he had at least 2 inches of drop-age. For those who don't know, drop-age happens when you're belly sags below the hemline of your shirt,  You know what I'm talking about... belly skin, sometimes really hairy belly skin.  Anyway, this guy comes up and orders a 5 gallon bucket of  Glidden, Semi-gloss, Antique White and I can barely hear what he's saying because he's got about 2 inches of drop-age resting on the edge of the paint desk... and, of course, he's wearing a Flo-Glo T-shirt, and, of course, I can barely hear what he's saying because my mind is screaming in horror.  Since I'm not allowed to lift 5 gallon buckets until October, I handed the order off to one of my associates.  Later she came up to me and said "why would anyone wear that shirt with that much fat hanging out."  And, my response was to shrug and admit that it was a paradox to me.   

I had a dental appointment today to have my bi-annual teeth cleaning.  Honestly, I have no problem with going to the dentist mainly because my hygienist prattles away all the while shoving sharp, pointy tools deep into my gum line.   Her name is Theresa, and her subjects are quite diverse.  In fact, I often tend to forget the torture she doing in my mouth because you never know what's going to pop out of hers.  Today she told me she and her husband, Mike, had just gotten a new puppy, a Yellow Lab they named Mookie.  On previous visits she had filled me in on their previous dogs, a Rottweiler and a Black Lab, both of whom came to have sad, sad endings.  She had also filled me in, some time ago I might add, that she could not have children so their dogs became substitute kids.  Mookie, at fifteen weeks is evidently the delight of their lives.  I'm glad.  Dogs are fun.  One of the best things I've ever done in my life was get a dog.

A facsimile of Mookie

This morning, as she began carving the gum away from my upper left molars, she told me how Mookie had an emergency Vet visit last week: a lower tract disturbance as well as a UTI.  At that point I had no idea what a UTI was, little did I know I was shortly going to find out.  As she was detailing Mookie's ordeal, she said that the puppy, "has these long hairs growing out around her vagina and they seem to hold her pee.  I think that's why she had the UTI.  We wipe her with towelettes but I don't know if they work.  Does your dog have hairs growing out around her vagina?"  Her next sentence was "You seem to be bleeding quite a lot around these molars, are you sure I'm not hurting you?"  I didn't answer because my mind was still stumbling around the dog's vagina.  Now I've never been to Dental Hygienists school, but I'd be very surprised if there wasn't some form of course on the propriety of certain subjects.  You know?  Things to stay away from, like politics, and religion, and your puppies' vagina.  This is not to say I was offended, in fact far from it.  This was just one of those things you don't expect to hear in the dentist's chair, and I have to say, I've been laughing about it all day.

 

The disgusting truth about FAT

Way back when I was working for xpedx we had Shaun, our Wellness Coach, who tried really, really hard to make associates care about their health.  There were times, however, when when I felt sorry for him, especially when he would try and run a clinic and most of the bozos who showed up were there to get out of work.  Take for example the day he wanted to have a discussion with us about FAT.  There ware at least 12 of us gathered in the training room. looking at this rubberized globule of adipose tissue, also known as FAT.  Try as he did, there was no way any of us were ever going to take that thing seriously.  If he had really wanted to grab our attention and make us think he should have stopped off a the nearest supermarket and purchased a super large container of tapioca pudding and red and yellow food color and combined them.  Then, after giving us his lecture on the evilness of fat, how it gathers around organs, gives you stretch marks, and slowly makes life fricking miserable, he should have dumped the tapioca mess on the table.  That should have been his money shot.

Just picture something as disgusting as this dumped on a desk!

To drive home the point, he should have turned to the porko deluxe sitting beside me and said, “hey porky, every time you jiggle, this is what bounces.”  Of course, he would have gotten complaints about his lack of sensitivity, as well as having to clean up the tapioca mess.  That is one of the growing problems in this country.  

Almost looks like a piece of Kung Pao Chicken

Fatties do not want to be reminded that they are fat.  They prefer people to not mention their fattiness, and if they do, they want to hear “oh, but it looks good on you.”  Me, I’ve been told for years that I am not tactful at all.  I would have dumped that tapioca mess on the table.  I would have said “you made a conscious decision to eat three donuts instead of one, you, alone, are responsible for your total calorie intake and because of that you’re fat.”