Good In Bed by Jennifer Weiner Page A

certainly never mean to suggest that any of you are stupid,” she said. “Diet is part of it,” she added. “Exercise is part of it, too, although probably not as big a part as we used to believe.”
    I frowned. That was just my luck. With all of the biking and walking I did, plus regular workouts at the gym with Samantha, exercise was the one part of a healthy lifestyle that I had down pat.
    “Now today,” she continued, “we’re going to be talking about portion size. Did you know that most restaurants serve portions that are well over the recommended USDA guidelines of what most women require over an entire day?”
    I groaned softly to myself as the nurse arrayed the plates and cups and little plastic pork chop on the table. “The correct portion of protein,” she said, speaking in the slow, loud, careful voice commonly employed by kindergarten teachers, “is four ounces. Now, can anyone tell me about how much that is?”
    “Size of your palm,” muttered Anita. “Jenny Craig,” she said to the nurse’s surprised look.
    Nurse Sarah took a deep breath. “Very good!” she said, making a visible effort to sound happy and upbeat. “Now, how about a portion of fat?”
    “Tip of your thumb,” I muttered. Her eyes widened. “Look,” I said, “I think we all know this stuff… am I right?”
    I looked around the table. Everyone nodded. “The only thing we’re here for, the only thing that this program has to offer us, is the drugs. Now, are we going to get them today, or do we have to sit here and act like you’re telling us things we don’t already know?”
    The nurse’s face went from frustrated (and slightly dismissive) to angry (and more than slightly scared). “There’s a procedure to this,” she said. “We explained it. Four weeks of behavior-modification classes…”
    Lily started thumping her fist on the table. “Drugs… drugs… drugs…” she chanted.
    “We can’t just hand out prescription medication”
    “Drugs… drugs… drugs…” Now Bonnie the blond girl and Esther were chanting along as well. The nurse opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I’ll get the doctor,” she said, and bolted. The five of us stared at each other for a moment. Then we all burst out laughing.
    “She was scared!” Lily hooted.
    “Probably thought we’d crush her,” I muttered.
    “Sit on her!” gasped Bonnie.
    “I hate skinny people,” I said.
    Anita looked very serious. “Don’t say that,” she said. “You shouldn’t hate anyone.”
    “Agh,” I sighed. Just then, Dr. K. stuck his head through the door, with the chastened-looking nurse right behind him, practically clinging to the hem of his white coat.
    “I understand there’s a problem,” he rumbled.
    “Drugs!” said Lily.
    The doctor had the look of a man who wanted very badly to laugh and was trying very hard not to.
    “Is there a movement spokeswoman?” he asked.
    Everyone looked at me. I got to my feet, smoothed my shirt, and cleared my throat. “I think that it’s the feeling of the group that we’ve all been through different lectures and courses and support groups concerning behavior modification.” I looked around the table. Everyone seemed to be nodding in agreement. “It’s our feeling that we’ve tried to change our behavior, and eat less, and exercise more, and all of those things that they tell you to do, and what we’d really like… what we’re really here for, what we’ve all paid for, is something new. Namely, drugs,” I concluded, and sat back in my seat.
    “Well, I know how you feel,” he said.
    “I doubt that very much,” I shot back.
    “Well, maybe you can tell me,” he said mildly. “Look,” he said. “It’s not like I know the secrets to lifelong weight loss and I’m here to tell them to you. Think of this as a journey… think of it as something we’re in on together.”
    “Except that our journey led us to the wonderful world of plus-size shopping and lonely nights,” I