Fat by James Keene Read Free Book Online

qualities.  Xander’s outsides are perfect for that role.  But Xander doesn’t seem like he’s going to be that great of a friend – one time I asked him for a purple Skittle and he flat out said no as he poured the rest of the bag down his throat.  My guess is that he’s going to end up like Brian.
         Brian was a friend in high school, not a good friend, just a friend.  He was a fat friend.  One time we went to the movies as part of a larger group.  I got a large popcorn and a medium Coke (which even back then looked like someone had taken two buckets and filled one with popcorn and one with soda).  He got some Skittles.  As we were all settling down into our seats, I offered everyone some popcorn.  Popcorn and movies?  No one can pass that up, especially Brian.  He filled his hands with popcorn in between mouthfuls of Skittles.  I love purple Skittles, so I asked if I could have one.  Brian flat out said no, as he poured the rest of his bag down his throat.  Come on, Brian, just one damn Skittle.  It would’ve been just two calories less, just 1/50 th of his supply.  Yet still no.  It was a quick lesson: the fat are greedy for every last calorie.  I guess you don’t become fat by sharing.  And selfishness makes for a bad friend.  Brian is now a floor manager in a factory that makes Skittles.  And not dating.  And really into World of Warcraft and Hentai porn, by rumor. 
         “So Kate, try to do those things I said, and come back in six months.  I want to see a slimmer Xander.  I have to see a slimmer Xander.”
         “I sure will try, Dr. Grant.”
         Xander finally lifts his head.  “Dr. Grant, do you want to play the next game?” as he offers up the console to me.
         Kate snatches the GameBoy away.  “No, Xander, we’re done now.  Maybe next time.  We have to go to the dentist right now.”
         “Next time for sure, little buddy.  What were you playing?”
         “Super Mario.  Ha, eating mushrooms makes you so big and I made him eat a lot.”
          

 
     
     
     
     
     
    SIX MONTHS FATTER
     
     
     
         I walk into the room and it smells great.  Smells like fries.  McDonald’s fries.  Mmm.  There’s just something about putting potato in hot grease that makes for good perfume.  The aroma is bad for Xander, though.  He’s digging into a bag of McDonald’s.  He looks bigger.  I look down at the vitals in today’s chart and Xander has gained another twenty pounds in six months. 
         “Kate, what happened?”
         “We tried, Dr. Grant, we really did.”
         “Did you cut down on his juice and soda?”  It was a rhetorical question at this point as Xander was sucking back on a super-sized Coke in the examining room.
         “He threw such a fit when I tried to take his juice away.”
         “How about his portions?” 
         I don’t know why I was even asking these questions out loud.  This kid was halfway done with a full quarter pounder value meal.
         “He complained he was so hungry all of the time when we tried.  I don’t want to starve my child.”
         The pangs of hunger can be a friend.  An inherent, relatively unpleasant signal that the fuel tank is getting low can be a good warning system to have.  The biologic incentive of feeling satiety and quelling those pangs seems like it was a logical Darwinian progression to ensure maintaining the drive of food pursuit.  Why risk life and limb and invest all the time to spear a wild boar if eating didn’t make you feel better?  But nowadays, the pangs of hunger are mostly enemy.  The hunt is now ripping open a cellophane wrapper.  Hunger is not a signal to eat for survival any longer; it is just a signal to most people that it’s time for another two thousand calorie bolus to maintain this oversized fat suit.  Yet, hunger is still mistaken for impending death.  “Oh my god, I am starving!  I