He was feeling really, really fat. His pants were super tight. He could remember when they had fit perfectly, even a little roomy! Now it was a completely different story. Every morning found him sucking in the belly fat that crept over the increasingly snug elastic of his underwear just so he could force the button into the button hole and drag the zipper up. Once fastened, his pants dug into him all the way around. He couldn’t just leave them open for relief because he had to tuck his shirt in for work—shirts that also had buttons that didn’t seem to want to meet the button holes as effortlessly as they once had.

So yeah, he was feeling especially fat standing in line at the local burger joint trying to decide what to order for lunch and hoping his clothes didn’t look as small to everyone else as they felt to him. The morning’s struggle to get dressed had left him vowing to eat healthy and start hitting the gym again, both habits that had slipped during the pandemic. With that in mind, he had skipped breakfast.

As a result, his stomach was roaring at him. None of the salad options looked very enticing. Maybe the grilled chicken breast wrap? Nah, too dry. By then, the line had moved him to the counter.

“A double bacon cheeseburger,” his traitorous mouth blurted out. “With large fries and a large drink.”

As he paid, he mentally kicked himself for being such a weak fatass, but he was practically salivating by the time he was handed his food. He sat down at one of the booths and nearly moaned with the first greasy bite. He loved these burgers. In no time, it was gone. His pants squeezed him harder than ever.

Back at work, he sat uncomfortably at his desk. His stomach was overloaded with greasy food. He felt sluggish and sleepy and like a total glutton. Looking down, he couldn’t believe how round his belly looked. His tight pants and shirt didn’t help the effect any.

Letting out a belch, he reached for the soda he’d brought back from lunch and took another gulp.

He still felt full when he got home from work, although he blamed the Cheetos he had not been able to resist grabbing from the vending machine that afternoon. He had unbuttoned his pants in the car on his way home, and he walked in the door with them still open to discover his wife had cooked one of his favorites for supper—pot roast.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said.

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