Shape of Things

 

I was sitting in the doctor's office waiting room yesterday. Across the way, socially distanced, was a woman. She was wearing skin tight pants made of some kind of neoprene material. I'm not sure if it was supposed to look like leather or rubber, but what it did look like were two Goodyear Blimps attached to her hips. She could have been hiding two giant watermelons in those pants instead of thighs. She was fat. I'm not being judgmental here. It is simply that I would never wear clothing that shows off my misshapen body. I have respect for those who don't seem to care what others see. I saw blimps. I used to be a straight up and down guy, skinny. Twenty four years ago when I met Mark, it wasn't too long before I stopped going to the gym. It was almost immediate that I started eating meals fit for a king. A fat king. Mark was a very good cook and I steadily put on weight. Now I look like a taffy apple with two sticks holding it up. Kind of reminds me of my dad. Dad had a belly sticking out for much of his adult life, with two skinny legs below. What was weird is that he had a small ass. So picture a tall balding guy with shoulders sloping down into a big gut, sitting on top of a little ass with two poles underneath that. That was Dad. I was thinking about that as I looked at that woman, and then the nurse called my name. It was my turn to see the doctor. I stood up and gave my pants a hitch so that they wouldn't fall down. For some reason my ass is smaller than my waist and lately my pants have been sliding down low, just like Dad. Maybe I should look into that neoprene or some other material that will cling better.