This all started with Dmitri. We’ve been best friends for a long time, and he’s great – funny, friendly, loyal and very popular with girls. This last quality might be a bit surprising to anyone who saw him in the street, however, because he is somewhat overweight. However, as soon as he opens his mouth all doubts about this disappear – he has a deep, booming voice that’s just full of charisma. But the excess weight worries some people, most notably his parents, who sent him off to a weight loss centre one summer. He was outraged when he told me.
“Fat camp!” he bellowed. “What a load of crap! They can’t possibly expect me to go along with this. I’m not eating lettuce in a prison for four weeks!” He was adamant that he wouldn’t go, but his parents insisted. Imagine their dismay, then, when he came back after a month looking remarkably chipper, having lost no weight and in fact gaining five pounds.
“How the hell did you manage that?” I asked him, as we had lunch at Little’s, the fast-food joint on Adamski Boulevard. He chuckled through his cheeseburger.
“There was this guy, Doug, who had his brother sneaking in every night with donuts and chocolate and stuff. They gave us salads at dinner, but you know how I feel about lettuce. So straight afterwards the guys in our cabin had a feast. The counsellors couldn’t understand why the four of us were gaining weight while all those other poor bastards had it dropping off them. But, when my course was up there wasn’t much they could do.” He pushed his now-empty plate to one side and started on his third cheeseburger of the meal. “God, Con, you’ve got no idea how good it feels,” he said, patting his bulging stomach. “You should try it sometime.” I snorted at that, but he continued, laughing, “You must have some kind of metabolism, though, because you, my friend, are probably the laziest human being the world has ever seen.”
I was going to protest, but that may well be true. That first four weeks of summer I had done nothing except sit in front of the TV. “I just don’t put on fat. It’s not like I eat healthily,” I said, gesturing at my bacon double cheeseburger meal. “Besides, why would I want to gain weight? I suck enough at sports as it is, and it would reduce my sex appeal to practically nil.”
Dmitri sighed. “Con, when was the last time you got laid? Good God, man, you haven’t even had a girlfriend since Cassie, and I think we can agree that hardly counts. Lots of girls like bigger guys – maybe packing on a few pounds would help!”
I changed the subject then, but Dmitri’s suggestion lingered in my mind for a while. I had thought about what it would be like to be fatter. It certainly seemed to work to Dmitri’s advantage.
After the meal, I...
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