SPEED EATING

had a revelation the other day, at least I think it was. I eat very fast. That’s not my revelation, its a fact, most anyone who’s ever sat down with me to eat knows this, I’m fast. not gross, not piggish, actually kind of gracefull -- according to my ex girlfriend, but then again, that was when she loved me, before I cancelled the wedding, before she cursed my soul to hell - but that's another story. But the other day I was eating something ... forget what it was, and I was eating it quickly, and I realized why I ate quickly. SHAME. EMBARRASSMENT. I was a fat kid, chubby, chunky, I wore HUSKY sized jeans. HUSKY. Huskys are large, intimidating, strong animals. I was not. I was chunky, fat, pasty, but no mother is going to buy “FAT SIZED PANTS” for her kids, so I had HUSKY. Now I’m not sure if my speed eating helped cause my HUSKY ness or was a side effect - I tend to think a little of both - my revelation wasn’t all that revealing I guess.

I can remember, however, sneaking off in the kitchen to grab a couple extra spoonfulls of ice cream, when no one was looking, or scoffing down extra chicken cutlets when no one could see me, like a spy .. 00fatkid.

I was so freakin sensitive about being fat, still am I guess, though while I’m a little soft in the mid section I’m not fat. I remember one dinner, must have been no more than 12 years old, I was eating in side in the living room because all the adults were in the kitchen eating (the dining room was converted into a bedroom for my brother and myself - is there any wonder I had eating issues ... I was sleeping in the DINING room for pete’s sake). But after dinner I was taking my plate and my silverware and my cup back into the kitchen and was holding my napkin in my mouth. Seemed the thing to do, don’t know why I didn’t just leave it on my plate -- did I mention I was a weird child??? As I walked into the kitchen my dad cracked a joke at the expense of my napkin holding technique “didn’t you get enough to eat?” Funny. Cute. Not insulting - yet I took it that way. I took it like “Hey son, your a fat bastard, stop eating everything” And so, like the little tiny (HUSKY) baby I was, I ran into my bedroom crying. My poor dad, he must have thought “I didn’t mean anything, I was only kidding” and he must have thought “my son, the pussy” the fat pussy.

To this day I refuse to eat a napkin.