30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS

The two young things in spandex sat at the sports bar having their nails done while drinking guava juice and ice. “That’s the latest fashion diet ad.” Mary Jane Sitmore pointed a pink tipped nail at the wall TV screen. “Everyone who knows anything swears by it, dear.”

“Do I look like I need it?” Alice Tennison tested for a bulge of flesh pinced between her purple tipped nails and groaned. Where had that fat come from? It must be the last of her baby fat, she realized with sudden clarity. “They got it wrong. Too many carbs to count.”

“Carbs are old school, girl. What you talking?” Mary Jane Sitmore blew on her nails in a huff. “You got to exercise more than your mouth to keep your weight in balance.” She eyed her companion from tip to toe, “Look what the diet has done for me. How old do you think I am?”

That was one girl rule never to be crossed. Her new talking friend must be out of her mind to ask that. “Uh. No more than a tidy thirty? You look fine. See that weightlifter guy staring at your buns?”

“Thirty! I’m twenty-four,” Mary Jane Sitmore turned her drying nails into claws tap dancing on the counter. She was only lying for a couple of years. This hurt. So she’d skipped a few days a week on the diet, just to test if it worked or not. Was this broad trying to ruin her attitude? That was key to any plan.

Alice hid and stared, sipping from behind her juice glass. It made bulges in Mary Jane Sitmore where there shouldn’t be any. It almost made her choke on her laughter. “Just kidding.” She took the slap on her arm feeling it sting. Boy, the new diet really added strength to a punch. It made her believe maybe there was more in this than the TV model showed up on the screen. A mental note was jotted down to double the diet to speed things up. Twenty-four. Who was that girl kidding? Thirty-five if anything but what a shape.

The two were still arguing weightily about the diet’s pluses and minuses with the new diet supply in their hands as they slid off their stools and paid for the primp. It tasted awful but was the price to pay for gaining instant intelligence, beauty, and youth.

“You can turn off the ad, mom, we caught two more fish.” The younger manicurist whispered to the older one.

“Good, loyal daughter. We have to sell off this mainland imported rice mixed with out-of-date coconut milk before the bargain shipment of flax seed your father bought comes in.” Plans for the next new fashion diet were already forming in her head.