"LOOK AT ALL YOU LITTLE DOUGH MUFFINS!"
The sun was high in the sky. Richard had changed to a sparkly silver jumpsuit that made me feel like I was going to fall down on the ground and start seizuring.
"This is your preliminary weigh in session. After this, we will do a weekly weigh in. We will subtract your current weight from your preliminary weight as well as calculate percentage of body fat lost."
He clapped his hands and giggled.
"Now, before we begin, I'm sure you've noticed that we have a boys vs. girls thing going on."
I glanced over at the girls group. There was a lot of skin showing. Unlike the guys, the girls were in sports bras. It wasn't a good sight. The only one who wasn't spilling out all over was Shay. She looked like she was going to vomit. She was wearing a swim coverup and her lips were moving as if she was muttering a prayer.
"This season we have the Simmons Beauties!" Richard announced. He did a dramatic bow in the girls direction.
Kenneth, the producer, gave us a pointed cue and we all clapped.
"And on my right, we have the Tough Richards!"
Kenneth gave another cue. But I couldn't clap. Tough Richards?
I heard a loud snort from the girl's group. I glanced over. Shay had her hand clamped over her mouth. I ran a hand down my face to cover my smile.
"Alright, first up will be Simmons Beauty...Victoria Jackson!"
And so it began. Victoria went first, then Bruce. The it was Darra's turn. She started to argue with Richard about the large number that appeared on the scale. I was half-hoping she'd jump on him and we'd all get to go home, but it didn't happen.
"Next up...teen dream, Nick Carter!"
My stomach clenched. I walked up to the scale. Richard patted my shoulder.
"Tell me how you got this way," he said seriously.
"Junk food?" I said. Richard started to rub my back consolingly. I need to tell you that I don't have a problem with gay guys, but a sparkly guy rubbing my back was a little much. I stepped on the scale just to get away.
Unlike the other contestants, I wasn't shocked when the number 224 came up on the scale. I heard the people behind me let out a little 'oooh.'
"How much did you weigh in 1999 during the Millennium tour?" Richard asked.
"Around 170," I said.
Richard made a little clucking noise. "That's fifty-four pounds," he said. "We're going to help you. HELP ME HELP YOU, NICK CARTER!"
Then he hugged me.
"HELP ME HELP YOU, NICK CARTER!"
I watched Richard Simmons hug Nick. Nick looked like he wanted to punch him. Instead, he held his hands up in the air and tried to look anywhere except at the sparkling disco ball that was encircling his waist. Once Richard let him go, he jogged back to the line.
Richard clapped his hands again.
"Next up...Shay Gerard, daughter of beloved actress Tiffany Sullivan!"
No one else had needed such a long introduction. It irked me that I couldn't just be myself. My mom always had to be attached to my ass.
As if I wasn't heavy enough.
I stepped forward. Richard smiled at me.
"Alright, hon. We need to lose the wrap before you step on the scale."
I put my hands on my hips. It was a good resting place.
"Why?"
"We want the most accurate weight."
I pulled the thin material away from my side. "This weighs nothing."
Richard just kept smiling. "It's the rules."
"I think its sexism."
The girls behind me started to whisper. Richard laughed.
"What are you talking about?"
"The guys got t-shirts. Why didn't we?"
Richard stopped smiling. He looked at the camera and did a little hand motion. The light faded away. The producer guy came forward.
"We're having you girls wear this so that at the end of the show the audience can see how much weight you've lost," he explained.
"Well why do the guys have shirts on?"
"When we do the promo shot, they won't. It's just that...we didn't want any plumber problems as they got on the scale."
The girls started to laugh. The guys...not so much.
"What choo talkin' bout?" Lavell called out. His belly was already escaping from the bottom of the shirt.
The producer ignored him. "We need you to follow the rules," he said.
Before I could argue further, he stepped back. Richard came back over and the cameras started rolling again.
"Alright, hon. We need to lose the wrap before you step on the scale," he continued as if nothing had happened.
My face burned. I was angry and self-conscious. I yanked off the cover-up and threw it at Richard's pixie face. I stepped onto the scale, slapped my hands against my sides and swallowed down every curse I could think of.
"One hundred eighty six pounds," I heard Richard announce to the group. Tears burned behind my eyes. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where you're the only one naked and everyone's laughing at you.
"Why do you think you've gained so much weight?" Richard asked. He put his arm around me. I opened my eyes. Just looking at him made me want to burst out singing 'Staying Alive' by the BeeGees.
"I've always been this way," I said defensively. "I've never been skinny. Some girls just aren't meant to look like Paris Hilton."
It was a bad analogy. I knew it the moment it came out of my mouth. Even so, I couldn't help but look at Nick. He looked like he had swallowed a lemon.
"Well, we're going to help you look like her!" Richard said. I didn't bother to explain I didn't want to look like her. The guy was just nuts. He handed me my wrap back, the producer cued everyone to clap, and my moment of torture was over.
For now.
