Have you ever looked back to a time when you were young . . . when your friends put up with your nonsense . . . and some people even adored you? Have you ever attempted to restore your body, your behavior, and your choices of perfect clothing? Connie kept asking herself these same questions day after day. On some days she was able to make believe but eventually, reality set in like the giant eraser board of life.
“Chunky” as she called herself, was no longer even putting up a fight. She turned on the eight-foot Roku TV screen and searched for a good movie she had starred in. She found a favorite and her hopes of joy made her feel on top of the world until it was commercial time and she got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom, but made the mistake of catching a look out of the corner of her eye at a full- length mirror and she froze.
The clothes screamed “Pink Arab Queen TV Star” but reality just raised its hand and said “Chunky. I hate it when reality is absolutely correct. I’ve got to do something.” Tossing off her clothes she stood and slowly turned her head. She knew what to expect.
An hour later Chunky started walking around the Pink Arab Queen estate. It took her a lot longer than she though it would, but she was surprised that after a couple of minutes she was ready for round two. She threw her head back and assumed Miss America pose #2 and then just fell to the ground. Looking up at the sky and clouds she said “I’m not interested in heaven . . . I just don’t want to look like a fat angel for the rest of my life.” After sitting up to get her heart back to its regular rhythm, she walked one more time around the complex and then nearly crawled to the living room couch for a nap.
After four months of exercise and small meals of decent food, she felt reversed. She was still ignoring calls from her friends, but not her slightly older sister. They encouraged each other, but Beth was always in good shape and condition anyway.
Finally, Connie heard a rapping at her front door. Only a few select people had a key for the main gate, so Connie took a deep breath and opened the door to meet Bill, her agent. He nodded his head and said, “I’d like to speak with Connie please . . .” He froze and looked her up and down and then circled her while Connie giggled.
Bill came straight to the crux of the matter and said, “Forget what I didn’t say and offer. Last week a young producer came to my office with a great storyline. I had it in mind for someone else. Would you be interested? The script is in my briefcase . . . and I have two actresses I was considering because of their looks. It’s yours if you want it. It’s a winner . . . I guarantee.” Connie laughed and said “I’ve dealt with your guarantees before. I think I’ll pass. I’ve just discovered that the world might just be opening up to me. Call me next week. But go ahead and leave the script.”
