A few weeks back a friend of mine
decided to have a braai and invite a couple of mates around for the day. I
wasn’t really in the mood for a get-together but I couldn’t say the same about
my desire for meat. So I figured, ‘oh what the hell’. Not like, not like I’ll
open my freezer and miraculously find meat there.
After arriving I did the rounds and
greeted everyone, then grabbed a seat and joined my peers in discussion. But
because I arrived fashionably late, my chair was not so much a chair as what it
was an old tomato crate. Bloody misers.
I soon grew bored of chatting and
started to feel peckish so I went to the snack table to help myself. Around the
table were tons of gorgeous ladies and other guests helping themselves to food.
Everyone was picking at the snacks
except the larger beings. Make no mistake, they were there too, standing
alongside the table, but they didn’t eat. Instead they ogled everyone else and
gave horrified looks every time someone put something tasty into their mouths.
I couldn’t figure out why they just
stood there sneaking peaks at those eating. The food was there for everyone to
nibble on. Besides, it’s not like anyone would be surprised at seeing a fat
person eat. Not like they got to a heart-attack provoking size by running on a
treadmill and eating lettuce and cucumber.
Eventually some of the fat folks
couldn’t take it anymore. They started to sneak handfuls of peanuts into their
mouths, and then tried disguising their chewing by bending down to tie shoelaces.
Other large guys didn’t want to follow suit so to avoid hunger pains they just
drank themselves drunk.
The drinks were flowing, people
were getting hammered and the fatties were ravenous. Some of them even
considered picking off the weaker looking people at the braai. They wore frowns
on their faces – the sort of look that can kill a man provided he can be eaten
thereafter.
Finally, the hosts summoned us to
the main table to eat. People stood in line like fat kids at a candy sale. Some
of the slimmer guests surprised me by snatching T-bone steaks that looked like
someone had hacked off a rhino’s leg, thrashed it with a hammer and then cooked
it. This angered the hell out of the portly people who were standing further
back in the queue. This is because when everyone else went in, they attacked
the snack tray outside...
For the rest of this piece you will
need to grab a copy of the book inside all CNA, Exclusive books and Estoril
book stores nationwide, for R120
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