J. Beaman - The Magazine

I’m fat. Not fat like that guy in that movie Seven or even fat like John Goodman but if I lost 30lbs people would say to me all day, “Wow J., you look really good.” I even had a girlfriend once tell me that she was more attracted to me when I wasn’t so fat. Her name was Sarah. Sarah did not want to have sex with me because I was fat.

I heard a story once about a fat guy who was getting on a plane and as he sat down next to some skinny lady and said, “I’m sorry I’m so fat.” I used to be a drunk, too. When I would get really drunk and obnoxious and embarrass Sarah I would say to her in my best fat guy voice, “I’m sorry I’m so fat!” or alternately, “I’m sorry I’m a fat fuck!” This made her feel like a bad girlfriend and I liked that.

I had a new girlfriend (I have since misplaced her) who didn’t think I was fat. Her name was Sarah too but she did want to have sex with me. We’ll call the old Sarah fat-hater-Sarah and the new Sarah fat-lover-Sarah. It might get confusing otherwise.

Fat-lover-Sarah and I went to the fancy pants J-Crew outlet store in San Marcos and because I was so excited that she was a fat lover I bought the wife beater tank tops that I had always wanted but never bought because fat-hater-Sarah traumatized me.

That was a month or so ago and I wore my J-Crew wife beater tank top out in public for the first time today. It’s Texas and it’s August and it just seemed appropriate fat or not. I also quit smoking five days ago and am wearing an unseemly nicotine patch on my shoulder hidden by your regular T-shirt but bold and pronounced in my J-Crew wife beater tank top.

I’m going to go back to my regular T-shirts tomorrow.