Better Than Phat

The obvious direction for this post would be southwest. The second most obvious would be talking about how for a gainer, THE ONLY THING BETTER THAN BEING FAT IS GETTING FATTER. All caps, multiple exclamation points implied. I might drift thataway, but I'm actually thinking of whom I'm better than. Clearly, I will be naming names of guys from various sites in the gainerverse who come nowhere near my level of hotness.

No no. There will be no naming of names, and I would never presume to think I'm hotter than anyone else, except for that one guy in that one city who took that one picture with that weird face. Seriously, fella, crop it out or make it pretty. In truth, I have struggled with a concept for some time that sometimes makes me feel a little guilty. Sometimes I feel better than fat people. There, I said it. Don't mistake this to mean I don't heartily endorse and appreciate chubs and fat people and I'm on board with the expansion of America's waistline, etc. etc. etc. Yet I can't shake the feeling that as an intentional gainer, I'm somehow in the lead against folks who have always been fat or who have accidentally piled on the pounds. Maybe a better way to put it is... I think my fatness is better, as I don't really think I am better than anyone else. Except Carrot Top. I'm not convinced I'm not better than Carrot Top.

Reason 1: There's a big difference between active and passive gaining. I was talking to a friend of mine recently about how much he enjoyed once hearing "look what college has done to you" from an old friend who hadn't seen him since he'd put on a hefty chunk of weight. Very hot. These sort of "what happened to you?" comments have always been a favorite of mine (See Mozzarella Sticks and Kidney Stones) but the fact is nothing happened to us. College, being in a relationship, and starting a desk job didn't do anything to us. We did this to ourselves. This, to me, is the difference between an accomplishment and an accident. It's tougher to be proud of an accident. But my mom sure is proud of me!

Reason 2: Clearly, I'm more observant than a fat guy. Don't get me wrong: I am all in favor of the oblivious fatboy. I am extremely grateful for all those guys sporting an extra 30 who have not updated their shirt wardrobes because they clearly have not realized how much of a difference has been made. But you've seen (and reversed) those before and after stories of some 300-lb fellow who saw a picture from some family trip and wondered how he got that way. I don't doubt there is some denial at play with these folks, but seriously? There wasn't a family photograph at 280? Or 250? Going up a pants size (pant size?) or two over time might be possible to dismiss as no big deal, but when a man graduates an entire tens-place from a 30-something waist to a 40-something waist, doesn't a bell ding somewhere? Also, I may not be able to see my feet when I look down anymore, but at least I've noticed I can't see my feet when I look down anymore. Do fat guys just not notice entire appendages have disappeared into a void?

Reason 3: It's a matter of pride. Do any of you remember the (extremely infuriating) original Nintendo game Marble Madness? That's how much my eyes roll when unintentionally fat guys mention being embarrassed to take their shirts off at the beach. Newsflash, chunks of the world: we can tell with or without a shirt. Ok, so I might be a little embarrassed to prance around shirtless in certain company, but not enough I wouldn't do it anyway. I love prancing. I love my belly. What could be better than combining the two? Sure, some beer-gutted fatties are proud of their guts, and show them off for pictures, but I think in general if someone offered them the chance to shed the blubber in a day, they would take it. I, however, would take a cannoli instead, considering I'm rather happy with my chub just the way it is (or on its way to bigger and better things). Score another for the gainerly-inclined among us.

Reason 4: I know we're not supposed to let such things cross our minds, but sometimes I think about losing weight. Not so much in the sense that I plan to do so, but the "what if" of it all. Something could come up that would force my hand and I'd need to or decide to shed weight. When this happens to fat guys, their world is thrown into a tizzy. They have to completely change the lifestyle to which they have gotten so comfortably accustomed, sometimes without even realizing it. I have quite intentionally adjusted my eating habits to get this physique; they just... ate. Because I've had to work to add the snacks and desserts that have led me to my present state, removing them wouldn't feel like such work. Disappointing as it may be for some in the gainerverse, I'm not a natural face-stuffer and it takes a decent effort to overeat to the point of gaining. In a bizarre way, I find it comforting that should the time ever arise to lose weight, I would know exactly what to change to do so. It wouldn't necessarily be easy, but at least unlike an accidental fat guy, I wouldn't be floundering for Step 1. Floundering... I suddenly either want to go for sushi or watch The Little Mermaid.

As I was saying, darling I'm better... take it from me. Or something like that.