Upon a trip to a Japanese market, I scanned the aisles for the most herbal, ethnic tea I could find to cleanse my soul, my blood, and my body. White and Green tea do the trick, as does Chamomile on nights when the wind blows a little too hard. In aisle 6, situated between the Oolong leaves and the ramble of Kanji, I found my salvation: a drink that would help lose the freshman 15, and continue to eat the crap I challenge myself to everyday.
My first indication of the seriousness of the situation, were the testimonies inside the green box. The individuals who swore by the product had shed weight faster than a bomber plane low on fuel. The specimens each weighed in excess of 250 lbs, compared to my varying 177 lb structure. My goal was to reach my 18th birthday weight of 160 lbs, and had been within striking distance a year earlier with an altered Atkins diet, starving myself of my sacred Thai lunches and Italian dinners. Blueberry oatmeal breakfasts were replaced by sugar free jello and fat free cottage cheese, portioned. Swimming the mile each day may have helped, though there are studies that show swimming increases your appetite. Nonetheless, I achieved a 17 lb drop in 6 weeks, a marvel even for someone twice my size. 10% of your body weight is big. Though I gained only half of it back, I was not happy with the change. I yearned for something easier, healthier, and Asian. The box contains 12 tea bags, put together by child workers with boat oars. If the word mishandling is mentioned in the presence of the bag in water, flossing will be your chore. The box mentioned, not cautioning or warning, of first time users encountering "loose stool" the first few times the tea is drunk. "Loose" is a word that should have more footnotes than meanings. What I encountered was far greater than anything considered loose. I encountered "extra-strength".
As if fearing a lawsuit, or an objection to legality, the box prints the FDA number on the front, third line down. No. L10028390. A number I will never play in the lottery. Or perhaps I should. I can win the lottery, buy the company, and relabel the box with newer, realistic precautions. The first dozen that come to mind are:
1. True-Slim waits until you are at least one mile from your house or any sanitary toilet before it activates.
2. True-Slim assumes role when you are carrying 2 40 lb bags of topsoil and your keys have fallen in tall grass.
3. The tea will give you the worst stomach cramps you have ever felt, if you aren't a woman.
4. Since you won't have time to check when the panic button is pushed, be sure to have toilet paper on hand, and within reach.
5. If you have made it this far, it will be as far as you go.
6. True-Slim knows no boundaries. It does not descriminate. Especially when on a ladder.
7. Do not assume you have gas. You will be disappointed.
8. Do NOT consume before alcohol.
9. Do NOT consume on an anniversary.
10. If you have had issues for 5 days, True-Slim cannot help you. Proceed to aisle 8 of your local pharmacy.
11. Bring something to read. Perhaps that biography of John Adams you've been meaning to finish.
12. Takes 4-5 hours to begin. Carry a watch. With new batteries. And a second hand.
I have been through 11 bags, and am staring at the last one. $3.68 has been spent on agony, and limitations no human or living thing should encounter. You can set records for how many bathrooms you can use in 5 minutes. I have used all three toilets in my own house just going from the bedroom to the wash machine. I can cut my losses and enjoy my day tomorrow. I can continue to curse the Canadians for doing this to me. I didn't learn in Sault Sainte Marie. I didn't learn in Montreal. I could've learned in Vancouver if I had stayed that long, but Toronto, Niagara Falls, and Mississauga did it, and did it good. The bag is going in the garbage. Fool me 11 times, shame on you. Fool me 12 times, shame on me.