I’m A Fatist

I am. I didn’t even have to rediscover this the other day because I was already well aware of it.

This past Tuesday I was eating away in this little Greek restaurant in Santa Cruz. Pretty much inhaling my dish cause I had just emerged from a few hours of surfing. Really was a great day of waves. But half way through my meal (I’d reckon eight or nine seconds into it) this ‘little’ chunk of a kid sits down with his normally built father. And this is where the fatism in me kicks in.

Chubby bunny orders a sprite.

Strike One.

Totally fair, right?

And then he proceeds to use his silverware as a faux drum set. Strike Two, Three, and Four. Not all that loud, but it didn’t have to be to be annoying. Watching his ’sticks’ being man-handled by these sausage fingers was too much to allow indifference.

And I know that if a normal sized kid was doing it, I would have been far less irritated. Maybe even totally alright with it if he had any sort of rhythm. But seeing this kid’s puffy, ass-chubby face gleaming w/ joy…well, it took all I had to keep my face in check.

Which makes me a total and complete monster. I know it. I don’t know where this impulse comes from. I don’t recall having any bad experiences w/ overweight kids when I was young.

And I don’t think it applies to all overweight people. In fact I know it doesn’t. Football fat, I’m fine with. Girls w/ ‘normal’ sized faces. Fine…for the most part.

I think maybe I’m more of a fat-faced-ist. Maybe that’s it. I’m not sure.

What I am sure of is that I go straight to the judging when I see an obese person eating junk food or drinking a soft drink. I go straight to low level repulsion. Immediately holding them in some form of contempt, even though I know nearly all of it is genetics. Yet I still internally react like a dumbshit kid. Makes no sense.

Which has me questioning where this impulse originates. Cause, I can’t claim total freedom from this list, since arguably none of us can…. I’m not a racist. I’m not a sexist. I’m not a homophobe. I’m not an elitist.

But I am a fatist. Or at least a face-fatist.

Maybe it can be understood via an anthropological lens. Maybe its a survival thing. Maybe I fear they are going to eat all my food so I go into attack mode.

I don’t know. Whatever it is. I’m still the loser here.

So cast your eyes away. I don’t want to be looked at. Avert your eyes from this hideous monster.

BN