Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Food Stories: Tran's Fat

This is the first in a collection I'm calling "Food Stories."  The various tales won't have anything to do with each other, other than that they'll probably/hopefully/somehow all relate to food (loosely defined here).  The first in this collection is a little anecdote about an unfortunate man.

            Mike Tran.  A portly man.  Actually, that’s putting it mildly.  And everyone likes spicy food better.  Especially Mike Tran.  Honestly, he liked all food, regardless of seasoning.  Though if given the choice, he would pile it on.  But spices did not make him obese.  It was the fat.
            Every day, Mike Tran would eat ten meals, one for each hour he was awake.  He spent so much time eating that he didn’t have time to do anything else.  Thus, his hourly schedule, starting at midnight, was:  Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep.  This was his routine every day.  No changes, no alterations.  He was very content.
            Each meal consisted of one food group.  And every meal was comprised of the same food group.  What classification of victuals was it?  Fat.  Cheese, milk, red meat, lard, ice cream, donuts, cream, more meat.  These were some of his favorite foods.  They were also the only foods he ate, so he only ate his favorite foods.  He was very content.
He was also very overweight, as you might imagine.  But you also might not wish to imagine that, because it was not a pretty sight.  You might even say it was the opposite of pretty, whatever that is.  You can supply your own antonym.           
One day, Mike Tran was not so content.  He had woken up to start eating, just as he did every day, but something was missing.  He looked by his bedside table, but everything was there.  He peeked in the closet, but he saw all of his belongings.  He patted himself down to see if he dropped something, and that was when he realized what was amiss.  His fat was gone.  Mike Tran’s fat was missing.
Mike Tran immediately left his house, foregoing his regimented schedule, to search for his lost fat.  Some things are more important than maintaining a routine.  Like maintaining your fat.  Especially if its Mike Tran’s fat.  He knew someone had stolen his fat, for he would have never lost it.  He cared too much.  With newfound determination and the first goal he had had since childhood, he set out to find his fat.
            To this day, Mike Tran’s fat is still missing.  He continues to wander the land, searching for it.  Occasionally, he recovers a piece or two hidden away in strangers’ food, but there is still a lot to find.  Maybe you’ll see a skinny man amble by, looking intently at your food as you eat.  It’s Mike Tran, looking for his fat.

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