Yesterday, my friend Andrew sent me this article, “The Social Side of Obesity”, with a note: “We can’t be friends.”
The article, which claims “you are who you eat with,” cites research that followed 12,000 adults for 32 years. Those with a friend who became obese were 57% more likely to become obese themselves.
Part of me thinks this is great news — If you are obese, at least you can revel in your whale-like tubbiness with your best friend! Biggest Loser Couples is always more interesting than singles. And this ensures that big people can get love too… because unless you have a hippo fetish, most Americans will cruelly judge anyone packing lardy love handles.
The downside of course, is that obesity leads to heart disease, diabetes, multiple chins, ugly flab, arm jiggle, cankles, and premature death. Since I’m not on the road to obesity (yet), it’s easy for me to downplay these effects, and to continue to write about my love affair with food (and The Biggest Loser).
But Andrew’s email yesterday was a wake-up call. Clearly, the essence of life is derived upon restraint. I have to change my food-loving ways: it’s unhealthy to dream about fajitas, and wake up gnawing on my pillow. To control my voracious appetite, I’m going to start having a lunch of water and sugar packets. And given that obesity is just the product of irresponsible and indulgent behavior (of course, DNA has nothing to do with it), I’m ditching all of my fat friends. I don’t need their chub mentalities seeping into my head. I don’t want their potbellies full of beer and cheesecake taunting me.
I may become friendless, but at least I’ll be skinny.