The reflection in the mirror completely obliterated Gregg's self-confidence. He saw
a scrawny 12-year-old kid looking back at him, a startled expression evident on
the boyish features.
The once tight black t-shirt ballooned around his body and fell almost to his knees.
His designer jeans felt extremely loose at the waist and his much smaller feet
hardly filled the pair of flip flops he had slipped on back at his apartment.
Trying to hold up his jeans, Gregg looked desperately at his reflection. "What
happened?" Gregg asked aloud. His shrill voice only enhanced his misery.
He could think of only one possible cause: those damn smoothies he had downed
back at the shop near the gym.
While he continued to struggle in his over-sized clothes, someone else entered
the restaurant's restroom. A young guy wearing a server's uniform approached a
urinal, ignoring Gregg.
Gregg's eyes focused on the young guy. He looked impossibly big. In truth, Gregg
would have once towered over the waiter. Now, he wasn't even half the guy's
size.
Finished, the restaurant employee turned, zipped up and headed toward the sink.
Gregg's mouth dropped open as the big guy approached.
The guy washed his hands and noticed the kid.
"Whadaya staring at?" The guy asked in a dangerous voice.
Gregg swallowed. "Nothing."
The guy scowled at him, wiped his hands and left Gregg once more alone.
"I've got to get out of here," Gregg decided.
He pulled his jeans as tight around the waist as he could manage and fled the
restroom. He shuffled through the restaurant, ducking past the maitre'd and
leaving the restaurant.
In the parking lot, he approached his Cherokee. He fished his keys from his
pocket. The vehicle looked damn big now to the 12-year-old.
He managed to get behind the wheel only to discover his feet barely reached the
pedals.
The smoothie shop was clear across town. He had no choice. He put the key in
the ignition, but driving a vehicle only reminded Gregg of how much he had
changed.
A short time later, having lost one of his flip flops on the trip from the parking lot
to inside the smoothie shop, a disheveled Gregg approached the counter.
"Well, hi there," said the man who had sold him the smoothies. "What can I get
you, kid?"
"You can get me back to normal, asshole!" Gregg said. "What did you do to me?"
The guy squinted and looked closer. In recognition, he smirked. "Oh, I thought
you might be back."
"What have you done to me?!" Gregg exclaimed, embarrassed by his squeaky
voice.
"I mixed up exactly what you ordered," the guy said. "Don't blame me."
"Look at me!" Gregg squeaked again. He waved his arms, which caused his jeans
to slide down toward his knees.