It Sucks Being Fat on Megan's Birthday

First things first.  I thrive on attention.  Some of you may or may not know I write stories and post them in an online community.  When I do that I get hundreds of comments every time I write something telling me I'm cool.  I am finding this blog rather unfulfilling when you don't leave comments. 

I have now only eaten things that are grown, for 17 days.  Sometimes the idea of eating another bite of a carrot just seems like too much, but I keep going. One or two nights I dreamed about food.  Oh I did finally break down and have a Starbucks, but if you know me - 2 in 2.5 weeks is really pretty good.

So last Friday my friend Megan invited me to go out for her birthday.  Megan is 25 and skinny and pretty, and I pretty much hate her except for the fact that she's nice and good at her job.  At her party there were a bunch of other pretty younger skinny girls that its ok for me to go ahead and hate, because I don't know them.  Actually, I must really like Megan, because I went out to dinner with a bunch of skinny people who got eat cheese while I only ate things that grow.  I thought I could handle it.  I thought I was strong enough, but I was wrong.

So everyone was there eating cheese and having a glorious time in their skinny little dresses. They were ordering drinks.  I don't really like beer, but suddenly I was like - everything in beer is grown! So for no reason except that I could, I ordered a beer.  So I'm sitting there drinking beer and pretending not to gag with every sip, when the waiter takes our orders. 

Girl I hate #1:  Crabcakes
Girl I hate #2: Southwest Wrap
Girl I hate #3: Cheeseburger
Girl I hate #4: Salmon (this usually doesn't sound good to me, but after 2 weeks of black beans being the most delicious food I'd eaten...)
Other girls I hate: Yummy food that has meat or cheese or bread.
Stacey:  Greek Salad with no Feta.... blech

The Greek Salad had lentils on it.  Is it me or is that just weird?

Anyway dinner went on, and it was fun enough.  I pretended to be enjoying myself and like I liked the skinny girls, but under the table my leg was shaking and I was holding my napkin so tight that my fingernails dug into my palms and I started to bleed. 

As I felt my heart rate increase my senses became acutely aware.  I could smell the Monterrey Jack slightly melted on top of one girl's Angus beef patty with a whole wheat bun.  My taste buds came alive and a small trickle of drool slid out the corner of my mouth dripping onto my chest. 

Maybe I was drunk.  Maybe the beer interacted with the black beans in my stomach causing a chemical reaction, but before I knew what was happening, I launched myself toward the cheeseburger.  Plates, glasses, and crab cakes went flying in every direction as the skinny girls let out a synchronized screech.  As I slid to a halt, half on the table half off, and grabbed the cheeseburger out of her hand mid bite, stuffing it into my mouth.  I was chewing and swallowing and stuffing simultaneously, determined to get in all the cheese before anyone pulled it away from me. 

I reached over for Megan's chocolate martini washing the last bit of ketchup and pickle down and then let out a belch that would have made my daddy proud. 

"Stacey!  What are you doing?!?!"  Megan shrieked.

"I. LOVE. CHEESE," I moaned and slowly raised myself up on all fours still on top of the table.  I crawled down it stopping at the various plates to taste the delecasies I had been depriving myself of.  Chicken.  French fries.  Broccoli.  Ew broccoli.  I spit it out, and it landed right on the cheek of a skinny girl.  Good.  She deserved it.  I continued until I got to the end of the table, and there waiting for me was the culmination of the most glorious meal I'd ever eaten.  CHEESECAKE.  Just as I picked it up with my bare hands to chomp down, I heard...

"FREEZE IT'S THE POLICE.  PUT DOWN THE CHEESE."

I slowly lowered the dessert and stood.  The jig was up.  I looked at the skinny girls who I hated and said defiantly as the officer cuffed me, "If loving cheese is wrong, I don't want to be right."


Please note:  Parts of the story have been changed for dramatic effect.  

I've lost 12 pounds.