a short story
Senor San Diego Carlos Juan Valdez Consuelo del Riviera stood 4' 11'' when standing on his toes and weighed 98 lbs soaking wet. A nurse once described him as diffusively hirsute, which in layman's terms means 'hairier than Borat, but less than Bigfoot.' Over the years, he had acquired what come called a pot belly, and others a beer belly, yet he had never smoked or drunk either. He affectionately referred to it as his hump. You see, his favorite mammal was the dromendary. In a little cabinet, he stored a wooden camel. The statue was the gift from an ex-girlfriend who purchased it from a yard sale for 50 cents. He worshiped the little beast as an idol.
Diego, in his words, was "training for the Olympic Games in weightlifting." While others were not of the same opinion, nevertheless, they wished him the best, lotsa luck, and plenty of good karma. . .as they felt sure he needed all three. Everyday, Diego consumed three high protein GNC double-express drinks with religious zeal. After two years of rigorous training, the results were stunning. He upped his bench-press to 88 lbs and gained 7 lbs of upper-body mass.
One day, after a particularly grueling work-out, he looked in the mirror and exclaimed, "one day, my boy, you'll show em.' They'll see. . .they'll all see."
Diego's favorite tee-shirt was a ragged old mop, faded green with yellow stains around the armpit. It said 'The Little Engine that Could.' He had won it at the state fair and felt mysteriously drawn to it. This was always said in the ominous overtones most people used when discussing paranormal activity and cancer.
end of part I
next week. . .part II