Look at yourself man! Paunch soft enough for a bouncy castle, out of breath, and you smell like an outbreak of leprosy. New year’s resolutions: get fit, have a healthier lifestyle, use deodorants.
That very morning Atkinson jogged on the prom. After a hundred yards he thought cardiac arrest was imminent. The next day the exercise bike his girlfriend, Jackie, had bought him for Christmas was set up in the spare room of the flat. He pedalled furiously for thirty seconds, then coughed and spluttered so much he had to lay down.
The day after he picked up the weights Jackie had got him for his birthday. They were so heavy he could barely lift them. If he did, he was sure to pull a muscle. He opened the window for air, and saw Jackie talking to a muscular guy in shorts. It was their neighbour, Strather, who he’d occasionally seen eyeing up Jackie’s butt.
Atkinson upped his work-out regime, training daily at the gym, and jogging on the prom mornings and evenings. Soon he was admiring himself in the mirror: muscles glistening, spare tyre around his midriff almost shed. Gladiator! Maybe Strather now looked puny next to him?
When Jackie came in, she was quiet. Eventually she said:
‘We’ve got to split, Trev. Sorry.’
‘What? Why!’
She wasn’t attracted to him any more. She liked her chaps a bit grubby and earthy, with a bit of jelly and lard on them, a bit slobby and scruffy. Trevor had turned into a Greek god. She wanted a man, not Adonis.
‘I thought you were attracted to smart, healthy types?’ he protested.
‘Me? I liked your body odour when I curled up in bed with you. All that deodorant makes me feel sick.’
‘But Strather … you’re always chatting to biceps and torso Strather?’
‘Can’t stand him. He loves himself and his “beautiful body”.’
‘I’ve seen you smiling with him.’
‘Smile at his smut? That’s all he ever talks. I wince, I don’t smile.’
‘But the exercise bike you bought me?’
‘You asked for it, after Strather gave me a Christmas card.’
‘I did?’
‘And you asked for those dumbells after seeing Strather with his weights in his front garden.’
‘I did?’
‘Well I’ll be off then.’
‘Wait! Give me a week to reform, Jac.’
He went out to the West Cross pizza place and bought their two largest pizzas. He took them back to the flat.
‘Half for you,’ he said, ‘and one and a half for me. Seven more days and I’ll regain my former shape. Alright?’
Jackie nibbled her pizza half and said nothing.
‘Tomorrow I’ll put the exercise bike and weights out for the scrap man, as well.’
She carried on nibbling.
‘And I’ll chuck the deodorants out.’
‘Do it now,’ she said.
He went out, returned with a bagful of the stuff which he put in the dustbin.
‘Seven days?’ she said. ‘Can you go a bit quicker? Pizza has an aphrodisiac effect on me.’
