Published Wednesday, March 26, 2008 10:54 AM
Updated Wednesday, March 26, 2008 10:55 AM
Fanfare for the Common Man 03/27/08
The Fat Guy speaks outI didn’t used to be a fat guy. I used to be skinny.
I’m fat because I don’t get around as much as I used to; I’m 50 and feel I’ve earned the right to live a sedentary lifestyle. I also love to eat.
In the past four years, according to my calculations, I’ve lost approximately 75 pounds. Before you say “good job!” keep in mind I’ve lost the same five pounds 15 times.
I haven’t seen my feet in 10 years and long ago came to the conclusion that touching my toes isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I figure it this way: if God wanted for me to touch my toes that badly, he would have put them on my knees.
I’m an angry fat guy, too – well, not really angry, just moderately perturbed. Fat guys don’t get angry. We’re supposed to be jolly, remember?
The reason I’m moderately perturbed is that I’ve noticed people like to blame everything on the fat guy.
Back in 2001 when the airline industry tanked out, rather than blame their demise on poor security, overpaid union workers and God forbid, a devastating and tragic terrorist attack, Delta Airlines instead blamed their financial woes on the $375 million it claimed to have spent on additional fuel hauling fat people around.
That’s it … blame it on the fat guy.
What is it with fat people that spark the ire of so many?
It’s not that fat people cause more trouble. Okay, so fitting us into an airline seat requires a shoehorn and a tub of Crisco. But we’re not the ones ordering up the extra lean turkey burger (be sure to drain all fat), with the fat-free mayo, organic pickles, goat’s cheese, alfalfa sprouts and the leavened soy flour multi-grain bun with the crust trimmed off. Oh, and don’t forget the half-caff latte with rice milk foam.
We just order the buffet.
And when we order our lattes, we opt for the half-gallon of Bryer’s mocha coffee fudge swirl ice cream instead and be done with it.
We take “all you can eat” as a personal challenge.
“Leftovers” is a four-letter word.
How do you expect us to lose weight when we are assaulted with food and lots of it at every turn? Thank God it’s Friday, let’s go eat something smeared with calories and packed with more salt than Lot’s wife.
You deserve a break today, so how about a breakfast wrap that doesn’t include anything vaguely resembling meat or dairy inside that 1,100 calorie stroke burrito.
Have a Coke and a smile – and about 780 calories in that 2.5 serving 20-ounce bottle.
And what idiot decided 8 ounces is a serving? Probably the same guy who drew the cup notches on your coffee maker. Maybe if I drank my Coke and coffee from a shot glass …
How can you expect us to be anything but fat when we have a television network devoted to nothing but 24 hours of food?
Obesity is a pandemic.
America got fat.
Back in the day, the fat kid used to be the minority. Every classroom had one. Think back when you were a kid. We all persecuted the fat kid then.
Who was the first to get pelted in dodge ball? Come on, admit it, you knew what kind of welts those rubber dodge balls raised on a fat kid’s thigh.
Who got picked last when choosing sides for football?
And didn’t you tell him to go long just so y’all could watch him waddle down field?
Who couldn’t fit through the bathroom door? The fat kid.
The persecution continues into adulthood.
We are singled out and charged more for clothes. It says so right on the rack: “Fat sizes XXL and XXXL must pay $2 more.”
What XXXL says is not only are you large, but you just flew right by extra large, double-extra large to extra, extra, extra large, which means we’re too fat to fit in a booth.
Speaking of booths…
What is it with hostesses, anyway?
They know we can’t fit into those restaurant booths. We know we can’t fit into those restaurant booths.
But they try anyway.
They make you ask, “Can I have a table instead?”
And then they look at you with this concerned almost confused expression that asks, “don’t you like our booths?”
No thank you, I don’t. I would just as soon not cleave myself in half before dinner if it’s all the same to you.
Besides, I’m wearing stretch pants tonight. I’m ordering the buffet.