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A New Year Me*

John Bolen

    * Copyright © John Bolen. Adapted from a one-act play of the same name and part of “Nothing for Christmas and Other Holiday Tales” a collection of short stories.

    The year had been a depressing one for Dara, made even more so by the passage of her thirty-fifth birthday in July. That milestone had triggered a self evaluation of what she had accomplished in her life and in her mind she fell far short of what she had dreamed would have transpired in her life by that date. The flippancy she had expressed in her twenties concerning the importance of marriage and having children had passed by her thirtieth birthday, and day by day for the last five years her longings for those things had increased as the chances for them seemed to be, at least in her mind, slipping away.
    And this self evaluation led to depression which led to bad habits trying to cope with it, and the particular bad habit of using food for comfort had led to weight gain, which led to greater depression which led to more eating to console her pain. This continuous cycle went on until she now found herself sixty pounds overweight. And being that obese caused such low self esteem that she unconsciously projected to all around her resulting in fewer and fewer dates with the opposite sex.
    In this year she had not been asked out once, and when she tried to take the prerogative and ask men she was attracted to out, there had been a continuous series of doubtful excuses from the young men that rebuffed her efforts. Statistically, there could not have possibly been that many deaths in the men’s families with services corresponding to the exact dates and times she had suggested.
    The one thing that had kept her from thoughts of suicide by chocolate for the last couple of weeks had been a glance her way from the new hunk at the office named Aldon. And she had almost chalked up that glance as a misunderstood signal, when a second glance had come her way. In fact, this second occurrence was much more than a glance, more of a long stare that had not been averted when returned by her. Still, she was too gun shy from all of the earlier rebuffs by other young men for her to act on her own to determine whether this stare had been a true signal of attraction or a fluke. And then it happened.
    “So he asked you and then what did you do?” Dara’s roommate Ezzie asked, plopping down on the sofa next to her with a half gallon of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.
    “I just acted cool,” Dara lied. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal.”
    “Not that big of a deal?” Ezzie laughed at the obvious lie. “I’ve never heard anyone use the adjective dreamy that many times in describing someone. All you have talked about for the last two weeks since he was transferred here from Atlanta is what a hunk you think he is, and you hope that he’s straight and is he married or not and how old is he and do I think he would be interested in getting married and having children and you could find the perfect house to spend happy and contented bliss in with such a...”
    “All right,” Dara cut Ezzie off knowing that if she truly recited all of the things that she had wondered aloud it would go on for some time. “It’s a big deal, okay. Don’t you need a bowl for that?”
    “For what?” Ezzie asked.
    “For the ice cream, that’s what.”
    “Oh did you want some?” Ezzie inquired.
    “No, I don’t want any, but most people put their ice cream in a bowl,” Dara commented.
    “Well I’m going to eat it all, so why dirty a dish?” Ezzie replied. “You always say I’d be a perfect roommate if I didn’t leave dirty dishes around, so no bowl, no dirty dish.”
    “You’re going to eat it all?” Dara could hardly believe her ears.
    “You know me,” Ezzie laughed. “I’m lucky I guess, because I can eat anything and I never gain weight.”
    “Have you ever thought how painful it would be to be disemboweled with a spoon?” Dara sinisterly questioned.
    “You don’t have to be violent,” Ezzie chided her friend.
    “Until I was twenty-five-years-old I was slim, I was trim, and then I had one spoonful of ice cream and gained ten pounds,” Dara commiserated. “The next year I had two chocolates and gained twenty pounds. Over the next three years I had three pieces of cake and gained another thirty pounds. I could kill you for eating a tub of ice cream and be acquitted by any jury on the principle of justifiable homicide.”
    “Let’s not continue on this subject,” Ezzie begged. “So tell me all about when he asked you.”
    “I was in the break room, and I was pretty pissed off because someone had stolen my lunch despite my posted warnings of a slow and painful death,” Dara related. “So I was distracted by that when he came in.” And so Dara related the following enounter.
    “Hi, you’re Dara aren’t you?” Aldon asked. “The one with the funny notes on your lunch? I’m Aldon, Aldon Ferminger.” Aldon reached out to shake her hand and then held it warmly for a few seconds.
    “Hummahummahumma,” was all that Dara could respond.
    “Are you okay?” Aldon asked with concern. “Dara? Are you okay?”
    “Hummahummahumma,” was all that Dara could muster in answer.
    “Would something to drink help? Some coffee?” Aldon offered.
    “No, I’m hummahummahumma,” Dara continued to answer.
    “I really find your little notes funny,” Aldon said trying to put her at ease. “I’ve never considered a staple remover a medieval torture device, but I guess you’re right the if used on the proper part of the anatomy, it could do the job. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been curious to meet someone so devoted to their lunch.”
    “What makes it worse,” Dara was able to sputter out, “is no one else’s lunch is worth stealing. I mean, it isn’t like I would steal someone else’s lunch, it’s just hummahummahumma.”
    “I bet you make a great lunch. They say lunch is the most important meal, don’t they? You need nutrition midday to keep operating at your peak level and all that. But I have to confess,” he laughed, “it has been so hectic with the move here from Atlanta and now being twenty-five hundred miles away from the woman that kept me on track with such things, I’ve been a bad boy and haven’t taken time for lunch.”
    “The woman?” Dara asked, her heart sinking.
    “Not what you think,” he quickly replied. “Just my mother. No romantic entanglements. I guess I’ve been bad in not making time for that either,” Aldon confessed and Dara cheered inside at that news.
    “I love eating lunch,” Dara responded, thinking that Aldon was going to ask her out to a restaurant right then and there to make up for her lost repast. “I love eating lunch, I mean I think lunch is important, too. You’re mother is sure right. I sure wish I had lunch right now,” she continued to blather.
    “I have to be honest,” Aldon said, looking deep into her eyes. “I noticed you the first day I got here, and you look like someone I would like to get to know a lot better, Dara. So to get straight to the point, I would very much like to ask you out. Do you have any plans for New Years Eve?”
    This threw Dara. She had been expecting a lunch invitation that day, and New Years Eve was two-and-a-half months away. Jarred by this surprise Dara just stood and stared openmouthed, unable to respond. She was disappointed that he had not asked her out to lunch right then, and then on top of it was confused as to what it meant to ask her out on such a distant date. Did it mean he really was not interested in her but just wanting to insure having an escort on an evening like New Years Eve at the big annual company gala where one would not want to show up with out a date? In her confusion, she froze up and to all outward appearances seemed to have lapsed into a coma.
    “Are you okay?” Aldon voiced his concern. “You’re not sick are you?” Dara continued to stand there with all the outward signs of life of a mummy. “I suppose you think it’s odd for me to be asking now,” Aldon started to explain, “but you see I have to go back to Atlanta tonight, finish up a project there, arrange to sell a house, relocate my mother, that kind of thing so it being so close to the Holidays, I’m going to stay there and return after Christmas.” With that explanation received Dara broke into a large smile. “Well that’s a relief,” Aldon laughed. “So I’ll ask again, would you like to go to the company New Year’s Eve bash with me?”
    During her odd stupor, Dara had forgotten to breathe, and yet she found enough air in her lungs to yell out an embarrassing, “Yes!” followed by a deep loud inhale.
    “Wow, I guess you really are sick,” he was apologizing. “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t be asking you out at this time.”
    Dara blurted out with another yell, “No! I mean to the sick part, not to the going out part. Yes, to the going out. I would love to go out with you on New Year’s.” She should have felt embarrassment for her behavior, but she was so happy to be asked out by this hunk that she could feel none of it, until later at home where insecurities so often grow larger and paranoia sets in.
    “If you’re sure you would be up to it,” Aldon voiced his concern.
    “I’m sure I’ll be up to it,” Dara assured him. “I’m fine. I was just a little distracted over someone stealing my lunch and wondering where I left my staple remover,” she tried to cover.
    “Oh, okay,” he chuckled. “Well e-mail me your phone number and I’ll call when I get back. “That’s great. Really great.” And then he looked at her in his sexy manner, his eyes taking in her entire body. That final glance struck hard to the heart of her insecurities.
    Having given all of the details, Dara continued her conversation with Ezzie saying, “And then he was gone, and now all I can think about is...”
    “Why he would ask you of all the women in the world,” Ezzie interjected.
    “Not that,” Dara replied.
    “That it’s a joke,” Ezzie further offered.
    “No.”
    “That he needs glasses.”
    “Not that at all,” Dara said.
    “That he must have been attacked by a vicious wolverine when he was young and underneath that immaculately tailored suit is a body so mangled that it no longer operates as a man should.”
    “No,” Dara giggled.
    “How can you possibly lose sixty pounds in two and a half months,” Ezzie continued.
    “Bingo!” Dara conceded, as a look of dismal hopelessness clouded her face. “I know he’s above judging a person by her exterior, that he is attracted to me for the me that is inside. A person, as noble as he is, cares about intelligence, sense of humor, and goodness of heart that leads to long lasting relationships. But I haven’t had a date for a year, and if I want to feel really good about myself and not blow this chance to have a relationship with the biggest dreamboat around then I know I have to lose that sixty pounds. And when I do I will feel so much better about myself, so much more confident and assured with myself that there will be a whole new me. So that is my resolution, my New Years resolution two and a half months early, that I will lose that weight and he will be so amazed he couldn’t help himself but fall in love with me. I am thirty-five-years-old, which feels so much like an emphasis on the word “old”, and who knows but this might be my last chance. So you better get out of my way because a brand new Dara is on her way, a brand new New Year me.”
    The next couple of months became dark indeed, as Dara starved herself towards her goal. Came Thanksgiving when Ezzie begged her to join the group of friends she had gathered to share in the feast, Dara declined saying, “I can gain two pounds just looking at stuffing, and just by saying the name of the dessert that has the initials P.P., I can suddenly break out in spontaneous fat. Besides, if I start my ten mile run now and only pass out once or twice, I might be back before midnight.” Then noticing that Ezzie had a serving bowl in her hand, Dara inquired, “What is that in your hand?”
    “Oh, it’s a bowl of cranberry sauce,” Ezzie explained.
    “Why are you bringing it back from the table?” Dara questioned. “Is there something wrong with it?”
    “There’s nothing wrong with it,” Ezzie answered, “I was just going to eat it.”
    “You’re going to eat a whole bowl of cranberry sauce?” Dara pressed, looking menacingly at her roommate. “Why don’t you just have a boat of gravy while you’re at it?”
    “You silly,” Ezzie giggled, “I only do that when it’s leftovers.”
    And so it continued that with each pound that Dara lost, the very sight of food inspired in her darker and darker thoughts. Christmas was a glum occasion when Ezzie’s Aunt Martha’s gift of a fruitcake was unwrapped that led to a near homicidal outburst. Ezzie locked her bedroom door at night in fear that Dara’s privation might lead her to cannibalism. Dara would sleep fitfully, suddenly screaming out in the night, “I’m going to kill me an Eskimo and bake him in a pie and I’ll have an Eskimo Pie, hee hee hee hee hee!”
    Finally New Year’s Eve arrived and there was a palpable tension in the air as all wondered if Dara would fit in the dress she had bought as her goal to be met. And the sigh of relief from all could be heard for miles as Dara handily slipped into the slinky garment.
    Aldon was staying at the hotel where the New Year’s Gala was being held, so he sent a car for Dara and arranged to meet her at their table in the ballroom. “Get a load of me, Aldon Ferminger,” Dara whispered to herself, “because I’m ready to knock your socks off, so I hope you are ready for the date of your life.”
    As Dara glided to the table, she raised her hand in a coquettish little wave to Aldon as she said, “Hi.”
    Aldon looked at her and returned the wave saying back to her, “Hi.”
    “You look great,” Dara hissed at her handsome date.
    “Miss, I am very flattered, but I am meeting someone here tonight,” Aldon attempted to dismiss her.
    “It’s me, Aldon. It’s Dara,” she explained, dismayed that he had failed to recognize her.
    “Dara? Oh wow!” Aldon voiced his amazement.
    “Quite a change, huh?” Dara chuckled at his confusion.
    “I didn’t recognize you,” Aldon admitted, flustered by his astonishment at her new appearance. “Gee, I am so sorry.”
    “What are you sorry for?” Dara asked with a giggle, trying to make light of his confusion.
    “Well, I thought you must be sick when I first asked you out, but I had no idea how serious it was,” Aldon said with genuine concern.
    “What are you talking about?” Dara laughed, thinking he must be making a joke.
    “Is it cancer?” he asked.
    “I don’t have cancer,” Dara replied.
    “My aunt died from stomach cancer,” Aldon explained. “She was just a walking skeleton at the end.”
    “I’m fine,” Dara insisted, catching on that this was no joke on his part.
    “Oh, that’s great,” Aldon sighed, “you’re in remission.”
    “I’m not in remission,” Dara replied.
    “I am so sorry. Well be brave,” Aldon said encouragingly, “it’s amazing what modern medicine can do now.”
    “I’m not sick,” Dara insisted. “I’ve never been sick.”
    “Oh, I get it,” Aldon said with understanding. “It’s one of those eating disorders. Is it anorexia? Bulimia?”
    “I don’t have an eating disorder,” Dara snapped, getting a little testy over this exchange.
    “Of course you are in denial,” Aldon tried to comfort her. “Well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You just need to face it head on.”
    “There is nothing wrong with me,” Dara shouted. “No cancer! No disorders!”
    “You don’t have to yell,” Aldon came back defensively. “With you wasting away like that, I normally assumed that it was one of those things as the cause.”
    “I just lost weight,” Dara explained, feeling hurt. “For you. I lost weight so you would think me more attractive.”
    Aldon was stunned. “You lost weight for me?”
    “Yes for you,” she answered. “I’m really interested in you, Aldon, and I didn’t want you to think that I was a fat slob.”
    “My mother is a heavy woman, but I certainly don’t think she’s a slob,” Aldon shot back offended.
    “I’m sorry,” Dara apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean to insult your mother. I just wanted to be slim so that you were more attracted to me.”
    Aldon looked at Dara with a shocked expression. “You got slim for me?” he asked.
    “That I did,” Dara said again. “It took a lot of work but I did it. And the guy with the ice cream truck promised he wouldn’t press charges.”
    “I don’t know what to say,” Aldon said, shaking his head in disbelief.
    “A compliment would be really, really appreciated right now,” Dara near begged of him.
    “You look really... thin,” he offered in a poor attempt.
    “Well thanks, I guess,” Dara replied.
    “You didn’t have to do that for me,” Aldon said firmly.
    “I know, and I think you are great for it, that all you cared about was the me inside,” Dara praised him.
    “I never dreamed that a girl would go to such extremes,” Aldon spoke with a tone that conveyed how confused he was by her behavior. “I’m flattered, I really am. But we hardly know one another.”
    “I know,” Dara explained, “but I just wanted you to see the real me, the happy me. Not the sad me because I had put on so much weight.”
    “I probably should tell you something about myself,” Aldon started his own confession.
    “What? What is it?” Dara panicked. “Oh no, you’re not gay are you?”
    “No, I’m not gay,” he answered.
    “Is there something wrong with you? Don’t worry about that. I don’t care. You’re not sick yourself, are you?” the questions shot out of Dara.
    “No, I’m not sick,” he answered.
    “Wolverines didn’t attack you, did they?”
    “No, wolverines haven’t attacked me,” he assured her.
    “Then what?” Dara begged to know. “We can work through anything.”
    “Well to be perfectly honest with you,” Aldon explained as he gazed deeply in her eyes, “I’m only attracted to fat women.”
    “Then there is something wrong with you,” Dara shouted in disgust, disturbing all the other revelers around.
    “There is nothing wrong with being attracted to fat women,” Aldon defended himself. “A lot of women would think me great for it.”
    “But how shallow can you be?” Dara questioned in disbelief.
    “I’m shallow?” Aldon argued. “You’re the one infatuated with being slim, and you call me shallow?”
    “Well, you are certainly not the norm,” Dara protested.
    “The real norm is that there is a great many women of large proportion out there, and I have them almost all to myself,” Aldon came back at her unrepentant. “I’m sorry, Dara but this is not going to work out. I mean, just look at you. You’re skinny.”
    Aldon left the ballroom headed for his own room. Dara stood but for a few seconds before she left as well, passing by the appetizers laid out on the buffet. With the depression mounting in her the temptation to dive into them was almost too much to bear. But she was able to resist. Besides, there was an entire fruitcake waiting at home.



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