Subtlety isn’t Wanda’s strength, so with the force of a sledgehammer, she recently told me I’d gained a few kilos.
“And perhaps you’d like to consider a diet for a few weeks, Wayne,” she says.
I’d noticed the muffin starting to rise above my belt line during some alone time in front of the mirror, so it was hard to argue.
The sacrifice, and every bit as much the deal with my dear wife, was to ditch fast food until I dropped 10kg.
As fair as that was, you’ve got no idea how much joy I receive from a piece of greasy fried chicken, or a flipped burger with plastic cheese and mustard, or a pizza dripping with pepperoni fat and stretchy cheese.
Therein lay the challenge. The quicker I could lose that 10kg, the sooner I’d be to my next indulgence.
Sure, the weight watch experts will tell us all that I’m defeating the purpose. The goal is to take it off and keep it off, they’ll say.
That is, of course, if I was motivated by health and fitness outcomes instead of the wrath of a dearly beloved whose demands carry more weight than a dietary requirement.
So, here I was – in a local service station – looking for lunch. A weight-conscious lunch.
It was one of those service stations with multiple fast food outlets.
I scanned the room, slowly crossing off each of the demon brands that would breach my bail conditions.
No buckets, crispy pork sandwiches or meal deals for me.
Which took me to the “grab and go” section of the service station.
And this is what made my blood start to boil.
There was a pie for $5, a sausage roll for $3.50, and three decks of various donut varieties which would set me back about $3 each.
There were a variety of sandwiches with bacon and schnitzels, but amid them all sat a lonely egg and lettuce sandwich. On multi-grain bread. For $8.50.
With a water for $4, that brought my rabbit food lunch in at a grand total of $12.50.
I leaned over for a chat with the devil on my left shoulder and we agreed to assess the situation.
I could get a piece of greasy chicken, some chips, gravy and a chicken slider for $4.95 if I ordered before 4pm.
Or a slightly healthier roast chicken and chips for around the same price.
The yellow clown with his red boots was offering me TWO burgers, some chips and a drink for $6.90 if I ordered online.
So when they say it pays to be healthy, I think there’s cause to argue otherwise.
In fact, I’d say it’s hypocrisy. It’s way more expensive to be healthy, particularly if you’re trying to find lunch at a truck stop.
Later in the week, I went shopping with Wanda with an incentive to carry the experiment forward.
Now, it must be said that Wand discourages me from joining her on grocery outings. She says I procrastinate, which I say discriminates against budget-conscious shoppers who do just as the government asks of them by assessing the price per 100g of each item we consider.
On this occasion, she indulged my pedantic madness and we progressed through the aisles looking for fresh, healthy food options.
As I saw a pack of six peaches for $4.95, grapes and bananas in a similar range. Hardly a crumbed chook leg and chips, but certainly a comparably-priced option.
Ready-made meals were all more than $10 each, frozen meals were around $8 and while not totally healthy, probably better than the two-burger deal at the truck stop.
Less plentiful, more inconvenient, but “better” – or was it?
As we walked, we found deals and I left the supermarket with three bags of crinkle cut chips, a box of ice creams, a loaf of bread and three packs of processed meat that Netflix tells me is a fast track to cancer.
Hey Wanda, I will continue with our agreement. But I want you to know that whoever’s managing supply and demand issues ought to have a good hard look at how expensive it is to be a healthy society.
Damn the cost on our health system. Maybe it all starts with accessibility to good food.
