This was an experiment in producing a story without dialogue, delivered as a series of monologues. I thought it was boring and didn't work, so I was going to shelve it but a few people liked it, so I hope some of you will too. There is infidelity and reference to sex but no actual bonking descriptions, so if you want something for the wankbank, give this one a miss.
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1. Jim Jones talks about how his wife started dieting.
My wife Vi Jones is a shy and reserved person. She is so close to our 8-year-old daughter August that she is almost a sister to her and prefers her company to women of her own age, which is her late thirties. Vi has been overweight pretty well forever and was steadily getting bigger over the ten years that we've been married. She casually tried lots of different faddish diets on a regular basis but without much progress in that direction. She was worried that our daughter would pick up her bad eating habits. She is quite short, barely five foot tall, and as she was a full size 28 she couldn't get clothes to fit her in the shops any more. We ordered a hell of a lot of stuff on-line. She wore mostly black and dark colours, feeling she didn't want to draw attention to herself. She suffers from poly-cystic syndrome, which was only recently diagnosed. This was the cause both of her obesity and relative infertility. Our Doctor offered her a course of 12 weeks with the local slim club as her only option out of her predicament.
Vi joined the local group of slimmers who meet at the nearest community centre early one evening a week, taking August along with her, so she too could assimilate the lifestyle of healthy eating. Vi took to the regimen so well that in her first year she reduced from size 28 down to size 14/16 and lost 5 stone. She won her group's slimmer of the year award and then went on to win the area title, too.
Now my Vi has lovely skin, has always had a pretty, no, beautiful face and long straight blond hair down to her waist. As far as I am concerned she has always been a looker. even with a few extra pounds, she was a lovely handful. Now that she has lost all that surplus weight, although she is still curvy, feminine and pretty well perfect. She has a very cute little-girl quality about her and the overall effect is that she is absolutely stunning. She has always been painfully shy, though, especially after August was born and she started to pile on the pounds. She never went back to work at the shop as she intended to fall pregnant with our second child as soon as possible and has always been totally absorbed in her loving family. I work as a cabinet maker and joiner in a furniture factory at some distance, about an hour's drive each way, and I earn just about enough for our family's modest needs.
Vi seems a lot more confident in front of strangers now, having stood up in front of the group and area reps, she doesn't need to take August with her to every meeting now.
2. Vi Jones speaks about her weight loss.
When the doctor said the only way that I could improve me chances of conceiving was to lose a lot o' weight, I was shocked. I'd bin real conscious about me appearance for a long while, but thought that as soon as I had another baby I'd lose it again, easy-like. An' Jim never complains about me size, he jus' gives me squeezes all the time. Trouble is he's one of them people what can eat whatever he likes and never puts on a single pound. The Doc was pretty blunt about me choices if I want to avoid an early grave. It was either a gastric band or I tackle the calories intake by proper organised dieting. Apparently in my case the NHS could help by paying for the first three months of meetings at the local slim club. I only summoned the courage to go the club when I found I could take August along an'all. I now know how much August'll benefit from the lifestyle change.
The guys and girls down the slim club were very friendly, and the club consultant, Wendy, was lovely, they had all been through the diets and knew what was what. The discussions after weighing-in help us keep our focus and point out pitfalls and traps. I started losin' weight straight away and won slimmer of the week the very next session, and 3 times or so a month after that for quite a while. I actually won slimmer of the month for about six months on the trot. So embarrassing, I had to stand up out in front and tell everyone how I did it. I went cherry-red the first few times I had to speak in front of everyone, but did get a bit more used to it. I still win the monthly award once every 2 or 3 months. Then I won me group's Woman of the Year and Slimmer of the Year, wow!
Winning them first two contests have boosted me confidence and knowin' I look so much better means I don't have to hide meself away no more. I can enjoy beautiful bright, colourful and fashionable clothes and show off me new figure. I love the gym work and feel so naughty the way the guys hit on me down at the gym. They are so much fitter than me scrawny husband. But bless him though, I do love me Jim, he's put up with me bein' fat for years so he should get the benefit of finally having a hot wife. Only drawback is all the loose skin which I have to tuck away in me undies, I'd crap meself if any of them fit geezers down the gym saw the real wrinkly me underneath.
The slim club has entered me as their candidate in the regional contest. Me sister-in-law Melanie is a hairdresser and she talked me into having me long hair cut into a bob. The success of them last two competitions has boosted me confidence and I have been putting in a bit more effort down the gym, adding road running and hot yoga classes during the day. It is so useful not havin' to go out to work. Jim has helped me get in me exercise time by adjusting his work hours to look after August when she gets home from school.
3. August Jones has her say.
I'm real prouda Mummy. I went with her to slim club for most of the first year and it was great how slim she got. It's a lot of fun going on Monday evenings, the ladies there all play with me and are so funny! I saw Mummy win the main prize which was real embarrassing! But I went with her a couple of times when she spoke to the other clubs in our town and she was so brave. And she won the next final an'all. Mummy's now doing lots of joggin' and training and shopping so Auntie Rosie is helping us as Daddy needs to work longer hours.
4. Jim thanks and complains.
I have to thank Rosie Gardner, Vi's younger sister, who has stepped up to cover for my wife when I have to work. I couldn't survive without her help. Vi's lost another stone in the past couple of months as she ups the ante on the exercise front and, as a consequence, has further revamped her blessed wardrobe. I think she can get into size 12 clothes now and all those size 16/18s we bought a couple of months ago have had to go down the charity shop. She won the regional finals as overall slimmer of the year, going onto the national finals in a couple of months' time.
She's now asking for, no, demanding, a mini tummy tuck operation, costing £4000, which will almost totally wipe out our savings. If she does manage to wheedle round me, I guess it'll mean her waist measurement will change down another bloody notch and she'll want even more clothes. I'm sure we've sent more old clothes to Oxfam recently than I've got in my own blooming wardrobe.
5. Vi feels good and wants to feel even better.
Bum looks amazing, great muscle tone in calves 'n' thighs. Can't stop lookin' in the mirror. That extra working'-out in the gym has really paid off. The only prob is me big flabby gut, what looks like a skin apron. I wanna mini-tummy tuck 6 weeks before the national slim club finals to remove loose skin round me belly. Takin' all me efforts to sweet talk Jim into lettin' me have it cos the lying cheapskate says I look fab just as I am. He don' wanna spend the money on me. Honestly, men! I need him to know he'll feel the benefit, if you know what I mean...
I daren't tell Jim that this op'll mean I can't have a second child cos it'll undo the benefits of the surgery. I think Jim would be disappointed if he knew, but I don't wanna'nuvver kid at my age, especially if I'll lose me figure again. Anyway, I wouldn't've nothink to wear, 'cos I've got rid of all me ugly fat clothes!
6. Jim comments on Vi's proposed tummy tuck.
She's off her bloody head, that stupid woman! We ain't got no money in the current account because we're buying all these clothes. Even bloody shoes! Now you can't tell me that madame's feet are getting any bloody thinner but she still insists on buying new shoes and boots that match her new wardrobe. She's no clue about what things cost or how long it takes me to work to earn what she can spend in minutes. She just prattles on about how much money she thinks she "saved" in the sales. Women!
Now she's got a bee in her bonnet about cosmetic surgery. This is not us, we are a working family, our kind don't indulge themselves with boob jobs or tummy tucks or Botox and the like, we can't afford stuff like this. It's such a waste. Wear a bloody corset, woman! The stupid thing is, that to me the way she looks at the moment is absolutely fantastic. She's always been beautiful face-wise and a nice comfortable handful to squeeze and cuddle up to, but now she has the pretty firm body of a model to go with it. For years she didn't care a fig about her appearance, back then she was natural, cheerful and funny, shy and appreciated anything I did for her. Now she thinks she is a bit of a looker, she's lost all of her sense of humour and is taking herself far too seriously. Everything what I do for her doesn't seem enough and she always wants more. She's fab for forty, just accept it woman, for crying out loud!
Four grand! Crazy! OK, we could just manage, but this would clear out our deposit account, the money we're saving in case the boiler goes or the car fails the MOT or we decide to have a holiday abroad this year. It'll take several years to build up those savings again. We'll need it for August's further education and our lovely girl's certainly bright enough to go to Uni when her time comes.
7. Vi, four weeks after her tummy tuck.
That really bloody hurt like hell and still bloody hurts. My main scar looks really horrid. I know it's under me panty line but still looks horrible when I'm in the buff. I've bought some fashionable hipsters and I need to take 'em back 'cos me scar shows. I still 'ave a belly button, though, 'cos sometimes they have to remove it. They've dropped the position of it by a coupla inches or so. It looks wrong, odd, d'yer know what I mean?