The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Being a Bitch

My Ex has always been a skinny little shit. From the day we met (in our mid twenties), he always had a 29/30 inch waist, and the appetite of a sumo wrestler. Dinner would consist of an appetizer, salad, a main course, and the invetible dessert. Unfortunately, I would join him in this eating extravaganza and post dinner, we would sit in the restaurant, nearly having to unbuckle our belts to ease the strain.

By the time I was approaching thirty, my metabolism slowed down and I started to rapidly gain weight. Thus I had to start dieting. My Ex still remained thin, and I resented that he could eat anything he wanted and still remain thin. The worst part was that he would gloat when eating a chicken fried steak dinner while I would eat a tossed salad.

"I've eaten so much, I better exercise and work it off" he would say. Then do one jumping jack. "Done!" I wanted to shove a salad crouton up his ass! Fucker.

It takes work combined with a little bulimia and anexoria to look the way I do. But thankfully time has passed, and I've learned to not eat as much as I've wanted, while my Ex recently has suffered the slowing of his own metabolism. For the first time in his life, I've got a smaller waist than he does. It's bugging him, but I've been nice about it. I don't bring it up. He knows he's gained weight...I don't need to rub it in.

Much.

My Ex went to Chicago Pridefest with one of his friends, and while heading back uptown from the festival, a young gay man in his early 20's who had been drinking excessively, threw an arm on my Ex's shoulders in hopes that my Ex would assist him up the street. My Ex, being the nice guy, let the guy lean on him as they continued the walk. The fact that the drunk boy was in his 20's, wearing only a pair of underwear, and was buff was of no importance. My Ex and I have a lot in common.

Walking up the street, the buff, drunk, 20 something year old said to my ex:

You are so lucky that you like being a stocky guy. So many guys have a problem with having a gut.

Now if you excuse me...I have to pay a 20 something year old a $100.

Patrick - 2:45 PM -

---