En route to Canada, stopped at a Super 8 Motel. I’m not sure what’s “8” about it, much as I remain mystified what’s so “6” about Motel 6. But there it is. While waiting outside for my dad to check in, I watched a young boy, maybe twelve, already tending towards chubbiness. His dad crossed the parking lot bearing two sodas. Coca-cola, half-liter cups. The kid snatched one from him greedily, fastened his lips on the straw, remora-like. “No!” I screamed to him. “You’re swallowing poison! It’ll only make your budding man-breasts larger!” But only in my head.
P.S. Am I a fat-bigot? Do fat people have a right to be fat that I’m bound to respect, like smokers have a right to smoke?