I walk around the Mission surrounded by girls shaped like good asparagus. Vegans, the lot of them. Don’t they have to be? How else do you achieve that level of fleshlessness? These girls answer the question of who could possibly wear that sack you saw hanging at the back of Goodwill or Anthropologie and make it look good. Instead of a full skeletal structure, they just have one long bone that branches a little into limbs like a tree. A sapling tree. They are skinny, I’m saying.
I have never felt like such a solid girl, filled as I am with meat and cheese. I comfort myself with visions of how thin I will be after a few more months of walking to and from work (not much exercise but still 100% more than I was getting before). I comfort myself with a BBQ bacon cheese burger with extra burger. I comfort myself with the knowledge that I am not actually a rhino except in comparison with these little veggie-munchers.
My hand resting on my stomach doesn’t rest on my spine. Maybe it’s better to have a little human padding. Maybe it’s better to eat a little pig.
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