An Interview with The Diet Mentor Continued...
He removed his Gandalfian hat to reveal a head as bald as a billiard ball.
It shone, indeed gleamed, decorated as it was with a patina of sweat. It
had a red tinge to it. His hair began about two inches down the side
of his head and flowed in grey locks to below his shoulders. His chest heaved
at the effort and he belched sotto voce numerous times before I sat down
beside him, moving the hat to accommodate my slighter girth. Notebook in
hand and pen poised I began to speak.
“Are you gay?” He asked me.
“Erm, no, I’m married actually,” I replied. I felt instinctively
defensive in the presence of the Mentor.
“So you want to lose weight, right?” He asked, eyeing my stomach
that struggled to break free of my starched white shirt.