The payoff of the anal retentive

"Alright, let's begin!"

The woman's voice was shrill and frightening. She took the floor with fearlessness: this was her room. Before her sat the many loyal followers, mostly middle-aged women, many seemingly very pissed off and looking for answers.

And among this sea of estrogen straight out of a Julia flick say one timid, quiet man. Yep, it was me, and as the meeting started, there wasn't another Y chromosome to be found.

You'd think this was some kind of support group, and in a way it was. This was my first Weight Watchers meeting. To say I'm not happy to be here is an understatement.

Many of the woman clutch small notebooks and pamphlets. These are their maps to skinnier jeans. Meanwhile, I sat quietly, shocked by the weight recorded when I stepped on the scale. In my mind. I was about to lose everything I love about food. The leader maintained her intensity, and only at the meeting's end did I begin to see that my fears weren't legitimate.

In my first week, I found that Weight Watchers is not a salvation of the overweight, but rather a celebration of all things anal retentive. The key to weight loss is careful tracking. For one week, I wrote down everything I ate, carefully assessing points to every apple or even Twizzler.

I'm lucky, my fiancee told me. Just being a guy grants me 8 extra points per day. The fact that I'm a big guy means I get to eat more. In a way, it's all a game. Use your points, don't go too far over, and see where you stand on the leader board. (note: there is no Weight Watchers leader board, but wouldn't that be fantastic? Imagine the gambling that would follow!)

I didn't even make it to the gym more than once that first week. And yet when I stepped on the scale at the next meeting after seven long days of painstaking tracking, I realized there are some rewards that don't come with frosting on top.

One week. Eight pounds lost. Holy crap.

Now the many woman who a week prior had seemed so angry cheered loudly upon hearing my accomplishment. Even the scary leader has nothing but praise. In addition to her praise, I get a fancy sticker, and the only people who hate stickers are jackasses.

For the rest of the meeting, I sat in a state of puzzled contentment. How the hell did I pull that off?

I'm told it's going to get harder and that at first the weight falls off you. But all good games get tougher as they go on. Especially Scrabble.

I'm considering Week 1 a triple word score.

Stats:

Weeks until wedding: 45
Weight loss goal: 60 pounds
Weight lost: 8 pounds
Pounds til goal: 52 pounds
Point value of a Moons Over My Hammy: I dunno, but that's always funny to order.
Karl "The Mailman" Malone's career points: 36,928
Number of illegitimate children fathered by the Mailman: TBD
Best reason for health care death panels: the idiots screaming at meetings who swear there are going to be death panels.