“I just ordered the weight loss coffee from your website. It better work.”
That’s a message I recently received from a woman on Facebook. She ended it with a winky face, but I could tell she was being more serious than playful.
Instead of feeling excited, I automatically thought, “Oh shit, what have I started?”
This woman is in England and I’d rather not be leading people astray on two continents.
I’ve been a little nervous about this and have been keeping my fingers crossed every time I check my messages on Facebook, which I do, FYI, all day, everyday. Like a goddamn junkie.
But so far, the correspondence has been quite cordial.
I say stuff like, “You know we kicked the living shit out of you guys twice.”
She thought I was referring to the Olympics.
I said, “No, I mean once in 1776 and then again in 1812. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
To which she said, “The house I live in is older than your country.”
Touché Miss Moneypenny. Touché.
Her beautiful house, pictured below, was built in 1736.
Thankfully, I woke up this morning to a message from her which read, “Gabe I’ve lost weight, I can’t tell you how much because I don’t own any scales, neither have I weighed myself, but lets just say a few pounds!”
I think she said “pounds” for my benefit. Because, don’t they say kilos over there? Or stones or quid or pence or something like that? Silly Brits should learn their own language already.
Anyway, she’s only been drinking the weight loss coffee for about a week and she already feels and looks slimmer.
So now it’s officially official. I know I’m doing a good thing by spreading the word and I’m never going to question it again.
Back here in the States, my friend who lost six pounds in eleven days is now down nine pounds.
North America: check