Monday, August 31, 2009

Do I Dare to Eat a Pii Set?

*Note: The title joke requires a working knowledge of American poetry and the Thai language.

But what else is new.


Time was when I came here that a man (and by "a man" I of course mean me)--time was when I came here that a man could eat four or five plates of Thai food in a sitting. Time was that I would eat pork fried rice, chicken with basil and white rice, pork noodle soup, and garlic beef, and then grab a rotee with bananas for dessert. Sure, I pooped it all out almost immediately, but time was that a man could eat that much and still be hungry for a pocky box in bed (not as dirty as it sounds, I swear).

That time has passed, like the massive amounts of feces that I used to. As my weight declines steadily toward the 150s for the first time since 10th grade, my stomach is approaching the size of the Grinch's heart (pre-climax), three sizes too small--or smaller, anyway.

I just came back from dinner, my first meal of the day (besides, okay, a bowl of white rice around 10 A.M.). I ate garlic chicken with a side of white rice, and then a little fried kana (English equivalent? I don't know) with crispy pork, both with a little clear soup to clear the palate. And do you know what? I am stuffed. Stuffed to my stomach skin. The penis alien is about to pop out, Ripley.

What happened? My stomach has shrunk, shriveled, shed mass, whatever. When Elena's boyfriend was here, I watched with admiration and wist as, on his first night or so he knocked down approximately seven plates of food. Now, the portions in Thailand are much smaller than they are at, say, Panda Express (which I could polish off three of in my day, no problem, btw), but I find myself often thinking about my past fast food eating habits, and what they will be like when I return to America.

Will I be able to eat a double cheeseburger combo meal from Wendy's, with large fries, and then also order junior bacon cheeseburger and chicken nuggets? When I go to the Chinese buffet, will I make four trips back and forth, each time filling up my until there is no white showing, and not with rice or noodles or any of that starch-filler shit either--I mean with meat, and fried vegetables, and more meat? When I go to Taco Bell--okay, that was a joke. But has the day arrived when I will finally be full after eating Chik-Fil-A? Jing jing?

I have--how long now?--several more months of stomach shrinking before I know. But I can only imagine that when I get back, it will take me a while to build back up to the fat disgusting sloppy repellent American eater that I once so proudly was.


  1. the spanish speaking mobster lady who once ran house of wong would be disappointed in you

  2. I have failed her in so many ways.