Yesterday at physio, my therapy provider (aka The Giver of Both Relief and Pain) was talking with one of her co-workers about the scales in their office.
They said the scales at the office added 5 pounds to their weight compared to the scales they usually use.
I told her that you should never use another set of scales. Always stick with the ones you know because then (like Desmond in ‘Lost’) you have a constant. I asked her why she would use some other scales, knowing that the scales would either make her feel worse or want to beat her usual scales within an ounce of its useless, poorly functioning life.
(I also said that it’s like using someone else’s toothbrush: you can do it, but you always risk some unpleasantries.)
She replied that she can’t resist it: if she sets some scales, she has to step on them.
I then explained that I’m the same way with photos of beautiful women: if they’re there, I have to look at them.
And I realized that we had come upon the solution to the one of the great mysteries of life: What’s the difference between men and women? - Women can’t resists scales and men can’t resist pictures of women.
To extrapolate it further, both sexes would be happy and both sexes would be satisfied if we had more photographs of curvaceous women standing on scales. Women could relate to the irresistible temptation and allure of the scales; men could relate to the irresistible temptation and allure of the lovely ladies.
I am sure that world peace is one mere step (on the scales) away.
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