Ftrain, by Paul Ford

The obese are not supposed to be vain but in my experience we are, at least I am, and extraordinarily so, and far more than the slends. Why be vain? Why not accept that one does not hew to the standard and make the best of it, with as much joy as possible? One can; I know people who have. But to do so is to become invisible, to lose cultural currency, to accept a paucity of options and shrug off hope of advancement. At best: an observer. Oh, some corners might take you as you are; the women's studies program or a tech support job, places where a certain appearance is celebrated or tolerated. You're not welcome in the Army, or the boardroom, or the gym. Your personal ad is skipped over.

"Little Butterball Holding Up Ice Cream Line," The Onion, August 10, 2009:

HARRISBURG, PA—According to witnesses who are sweating their nuts off, the line at the Baskin-Robbins is currently 12 people deep, thanks to an indecisive little butterball holding things up at the counter. Sources said the chubster, whose breath has almost completely fogged up the glass display case, already has chocolate on his shirt, and is now regarding the ice cream selection with the sort of glazed look typical of the heavily sedated. In the event that Mr. Porkpie ever makes up his mind, it is unlikely that he'll be able to reach into the pockets of his stretched-to-the-limit pants to pull out the money to oh my God, he just asked for another sample despite the fact that everybody in this goddamn line knows he's going to get the chocolate peanut butter. Store regulars said the situation wouldn't be so bad, but the manager had to run to the bank for change, leaving only Wendy behind the counter to wait on this sausage-boy, and she's no rocket scientist.

A cluster of chubs, seated at the top of a hill, eating bonbons, watching the slend armies fight to the death in the valley below. The horrid carnage; the shrieks as eyeballs are ripped from the socket and limbs thrown into the air. The stream that runs through the valley is red with gore. And the chubs, squinting through their piggy eyes, are jealous at being excluded.

I have stared into the mirror, tilting and twisting until an appropriate angle was discovered, admiring the lucid qualities of my eyes or the cheer in my smile. Desperate to be visible and simultaneously invisible. That is, to be attractive enough but not to be noticed, to pass wraithlike through the world without disturbing anything and then, upon arrival, being told that my hair is nice. To be normal. Until the end, there, when, upset by my abnormality, I began to squint as I passed a mirror or any reflective surface.

God help me one of the things that has set me on this path is Apple (and thus everyone's) insistence that every screen now be treated so that it aggressively reflects its user, the better that we might appreciate ourselves for using Apple products. Enough time with my own face and I decided I'd better do something about it. Omnia vanitas.

¹ The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem. ² Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity. ³ What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun? ⁴ One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever. ⁵ The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose. ⁶ The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits. ⁷ All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again. ⁸ All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. ⁹ The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. ¹⁰ Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us. ¹¹ There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after.

Weight: 301.5 lbs