Fat

Two men called me fat today. 

The first cried out to me loudly enough for all passersby to hear, “You look like you’ve gained 100 lbs since I last saw you. What have you been eating? Lard mixed with cement?”

The second man was more subtle. He asked, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Kevin James?”

“Kevin James?” I asked. “He’s not a bad looking guy, but isn’t he quite a bit heavier than me?”

“Sorry,” he replied. “Did I say Kevin James? I meant to say that fat guy from the Guinness Book of World Records who was buried in a piano case!”

“Am I that big?”

“My apologies,” he replied. “I meant to say that you look like Jabba the Hutt from Star Wars!”

Ok, so none of that happened exactly, but two men did call me fat, sort of. The first saw me and said, “Wow, you gained back all of the weight you lost and more. That’s not good. You should lose it again so you won’t be, you know, fat.”

“Thanks for pointing that out,” I replied. “I hadn’t noticed.”

The second guy pointed at me and said, “You look like Mike Golic.”

“Who is that?” I asked.

“Don’t you watch Sports Center?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“No, I don’t,” I replied. 

He looked down, shook his head, and walked away in disgust. 

I did a quick search for Mike Golic and showed the images to my wife.

“Do you think I look like this man?” I asked.

“The one where his hair is longer looks like you,” she said.

“But that’s the picture where he looks the heaviest,” I replied.

My wife smiled and tightened her lips at the same time. That’s her way of telling me I’m fat without actually having to say the words.

So let me correct my earlier statement: “Today, two men and my wife told me I was fat.”

I guess it’s time to do something about it.

I guess.

Maybe.

I don’t know.

*Image courtesy of Andre’ Hunter and Unsplash