Two peas in a pod?

“The end justifies the means, Amy!”, Kat yells. Amy can see the large veins at the side of Kat’s neck pulsating with her clearly fast-racing heart. This was meant to be a light conversation but somehow it had made a dangerous detour. Amy knows she can put an end to this, especially seeing Kat gulp down her glass of wine but she just cannot let Kat get away with her ill-used statement.

“Ok, listen, Kat. First, relax. We aren’t debating. Your statement is very wrong in the context of what we are discussing. There is nothing morally wrong with plastic surgery to assert that the end justifies the means. My issue with what you have been saying is trying to place plastic surgery and a fitness lifestyle in the same bracket”, Amy gently says, gesticulating with her left hand as she is prone to do when trying to be serious. Kat moves her lips to say something but Amy cuts her off.

“Hold on, please. Hear me out. When I workout, I am doing it for way more than the physical results. It helps me mentally and even emotionally. It is an outlet for a lot of my frustrations and what’s more, it takes an incredible amount of discipline and dedication that spills into other areas of my life that I tend to be lax about. And yes, it doesn’t hurt that with the consistency, I end up having the desired figure I always wanted.”

“Just hear yourself – ‘the figure I always wanted’ “, Kat repeats mockingly. “Like I have been saying, the route to get the body you want may be different from the route I used, which is spreading it all out for my plastic surgeon to snip, tuck and plop but at the end of it all, we both are pleased with the results and show it off vainly. All na hard work after all. I worked hard for my money to afford the doctor. You worked hard to afford a trainer and gym membership plus the energy to lift iron weights. Same difference.”, Kat says dismissively and pats the front of her lace wig.

“Well, your route is a lazy and easy way out that is bound to have repercussions in the future!”, Amy spits out angrily.

“Excuse you!”, Kat says standing up from the stool at the bar where they had both been seated waiting for a table at the overbooked chic French Restaurant that just opened up. “It’s good to hear you finally express what you really feel about my tummy tuck and BBL. I won’t sit here and let you call me lazy. Enjoy your dinner alone.”

Before Amy can offer apologies, Kat storms out of the restaurant with the speed of lightening despite the huge balloons behind her that should be weighing her small frame down.

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