Monday, May 14, 2012

The Price of Weight Loss Might Be Hepatitis.

Will you look at that?

This post isn't titled "The Road."

I seriously want to thank those of you who made the five day journey with The Missus and I last week, and if you haven't had the chance to read those, go ahead. I'll wait.

Back in 2010, I know I wrote a post about being somewhat of a germaphobe, but I can't find it. I've searched through my archives, and I'm getting nothing. It was about a cashier at Walmart who practically refused to clean raw chicken juice off the scale/scanner before they rang up my banana and apple. There was a slight altercation, the scale was halfheartedly cleaned, which resulted in me having to disinfect my fruit with 91% alcohol before I ate it.

My fear of germs hasn't always been consistent. Growing up, the thought of germs couldn't even rent a studio apartment in my brain. I would lick, eat, smell, touch, or roll around in anything. But I've noticed that as I'm getting older, and through the addition of kids, thoughts of germs and germ related paraphernalia have started tilling these hundred acre farms in the fertile fields of my faculties. I cite the towel post I recently put up.

You also have been briefed on my new efforts at weight loss. I'm trying here, folks. It's slow going, but I'm going to give it the business.

However, I think it might be going too slowly for some of the folks I work with. You see, I walked into my office the other day and found this on my desk.

Dear Travis, Lose weight. Sincerely, The Office
You think someone is trying to tell me something?

In addition to the six pack, there was a loose bottle of the stuff, almost as if someone had said, "You know, I want to keep this other six pack for myself, but Travis really needs a whole week's worth. I can make that sacrifice." 

After finding the culprit who had left me such a generous gift, I asked him why. He said that he had gotten the stuff at a garage sale, and he'd heard about my weight loss efforts, and wanted to assist. I thanked him, if a bit gruffly, and I continued back to my desk to check the stuff out. 

After examining the side effects and such, I decided to give it a shot. It actually looks a lot like Five Hour Energy, and I love those, so I cracked the loose bottle, noted the small amount of liquid, made a remark about how they must sell this product by weight and not volume, chugged the contents of the bottle, and went on about my merry way. 

Fast forward to the next day. 

I come in, and I'm excited about my new weight loss product, and about the changes it will bring about in my life. I sat down at my desk and cracked open a second bottle, only to discover this. 

Yep. A safety seal. And under that seal, a completely full bottle of liquid.
A safety seal that was missing from the first bottle I drank the day before.

The bottle that had half of the liquid inside missing. 

The bottle that had been given to me by a coworker. 

The bottle that had been purchased at a garage sale.


I really don't even know what I should do at this point. I'm stuck trying to find out how much testing me for every known disease to man is going to cost, and wondering if I want that many needles in me. I could have induced vomiting, and almost did involuntarily, but I didn't figure I could retroactively vomit up anything that had been in my digestive system for twenty four hours. 

My singular hope is that the sheer volume of hot sauce and peppers I eat on a daily basis will have somehow incinerated the terrible unknown germs that I received from ingested a half used bottle of garage sale purchased mystery weight loss product. If not, I fully expect to die within the next few days.

I'm also looking to get rid of the other five bottles. 

Any takers?

Just a real quick note, if you glance down, you'll see a Facebook "Like" box. This box lets you like this post, which makes me feel crazy happy. I get a little notification, and my world is complete for the day. It also gives you the option to "Become a fan" of my blog, which will seriously lead to me hugging you awkwardly the next time I see you. So feel free to use the box.