07-11-2009

I overheard someone bitching about fat people... I was exploring here.

Start Fiction:


     "Oh my god," Chuck said. Quickly he coughed trying to cover his inability to filter himself.
     The woman standing at the counter had caught him off guard. Her upper arms were at least twenty inches in diameter of jiggling, cottage cheese flesh.
     The woman was wearing a sleeveless shirt, something Chuck didn't understand. Had the rest of her body been proportionate to the size of her arms, it might not have been so startling. Granted, she was a large individual, however while she probably weighed about 350 lbs., her arms looked like those of someone weighing at least 500 lbs.
     Why does that bug me? I used to be overweight, Chuck asked himself. Chuck never felt guilty for being repulsed or disgusted by morbidly obese people. However, He knew there are illnesses that cause obesity; physical and mental illnesses.
     Chuck often thought he was afraid of being fat and lashed out at these people. But it wasn't their weight as much as their attitudes; their laziness, their gluttony.
     They were too happy to blame it on an illness, blame it on injury, blame it on anyone else. He hated the ones who talked about "big is beautiful". Big is fat; plain and simple. It's like saying "thirty is the new twenty" or "pink is the new black"; you can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig.
     What really bothered Chuck about his resentment to the obese was his anger towards them. What would cause him to be angry? It's not like they kicked him out of their club or picked on him because he was skinny.
He had no reason to be angry or be bothered by fat people. He knew that but didn't care. And that was something that made him feel guilty - he enjoyed something to get angry about.
     "Who's got the mental illness?" Chuck asked himself out loud. "Sick, twisted bastard."


End Fiction.