This has been weighing on my mind

This past weekend, a carnival visited our town. I was intrigued, and went alone. I walked around and took it all in, the laughs of the children and the smells of the food I wouldn't touch with a 50-foot fork. Lost in my thoughts, I was surprised by a gentleman who emerged from under a canopy. He asked me if he could guess my weight. If I didn't think he could guess correctly, he said, a wager of a dime would be in order. I knew he wouldn't be able to succeed, so I agreed. He then disclaimed that there would be a 10 lb. cushion either way, up or down, to which I protested, but secretly knew it would not matter. I put my thumbs between my suspenders and my chest, in that satisfying pose I prefer, and began to rock on my heels. He guessed a good 25 lbs. off, then weighed me to verify my claim. Handing me a worthless trinket, he patted my back, and I was on my way.

That night, while laying in bed with my wife, I twirled my moustache, slightly brittle and noticeably lacking wax, and began to think of the day's events. What a business! What a scam! A dime to guess the effect of gravity on a stranger's body, and keeping the money, even in failure! Here was something I knew I would excel in. I became giddy imagining becoming a traveler, poking a subject with my cane to observe her gastronomic opulence, or analyzing a young boy's skinny legs. Finally, I had found a profession in which I would get paid for something I could enjoy and be good at. Not that I was a horrible auctioneer, but ever since that street urchin had bit my tongue on that scandalous night, I had not my former verbal dexterity. Besides, this weight-estimating was something I had done every day since I had married my angel. Through a series of quick observations, I was always able to accurately identify when my wife had lost a pound or two, or, more frequently, when she had gained a few kilos. Perhaps I had found my calling!

I looked over at my sleeping wife. She was heavy with exhaustion and flesh, and I knew then that it was all for naught. I could not pursue this beautiful fantasy, could not lead her around to various city centers and town squares. She was comfortable here; she would not stand for it, mostly because she could hardly stand at all anymore. 'Poor thing,' I thought. 'Poor heavy, round thing.' That's when I gave up. That's when I banished the thought from my mind, swearing to retrieve it only on those nights when I truly needed a sweet dream.