There were more people queueing up for fat club than I expected yesterday morning.
As usual there was posters advertising just how effective the programme adorning the hall and on a table there was boxes and packets of diet cookies, cakes and anaemic looking pasta all ready to be bought.
I know the routine, I've been there before.
Most of the " clients" were women and most disappeared off to the toilets before joining the weigh in line in order to squeeze that last tiny bit of urine out of themselves before they jumped upon the scales. There was only one bloke in line and like me , he was the newbee.
He flashed me a sympathetic look.
The woman behind me had a handful of dogeared paperwork and told me that she had been coming to the meetings " for years"
" They are my social life" she admitted " they gets me out of the house"
I asked her how well she was doing with her weight loss and she laughed
" I haven't lost anything since Christmas" she confided "But I am on diuretics now so things may start moving"
" How long have you been big?" She asked me after a pause
I thought I'd be honest
" I was born big" I told her.