Thursday, June 6, 2013

A letter to the fat guy buying parsnips on a Wednesday morning without a shirt

Dear the fat guy buying parsnips on a Wednesday morning without a shirt,

Why? I just wanted to put out the one word floating in my mind after I saw you, a reasonable looking man, doing what many normal people do in the morning: purchasing vegetables. Nothing about your demeanour suggested anything was amiss at all, except you weren't wearing a shirt.

So, let me begin by saying that I admire your courage and your moustache. However impressive it is, it is not enough to draw my eyes away from how your abdomen jiggles when you walk. I also commend you for spending your morning buying vegetables, as opposed to a bag of potato chips or langos. The moment I encountered you first, you were handing money to the friendly looking gypsy woman for a bundle of parsnips. As you most likely know, parsnips are high in potassium, vitamin c, and fibre. They are also low in fat. If you intention is to lose the spare tractor tire you've presented to the world, parsnips are a great way to start. Unfortunately, your desire to show off the results of your positive dietary choices is a bit premature.

Let me state now that I have nothing against fat people; one of my friends had a cat that was quite fat, and I loved him as I would a skinny cat, maybe even more so. That said, I do have something against general public shirtlessness when outside of the context of a beach or a Kid Rock concert. It can be easy to be led astray from societal norms when living in a city that doesn't stigmatize public defecation and in your defence, you were wearing more clothing than an average woman in Budapest, but that still doesn't make it right and I much prefer a young woman's breasts to yours.

I suppose in certain circumstances this would be more acceptable. If you had lived in some quaint back street of the city, away from people, for the last twenty years, and over those twenty years, the neighbourhood and greengrocer had grown accustomed seeing your abdomen from time to time. Maybe you had on occasion enjoyed a shirtless beer on your front step, back in the days when you were fit, and didn't eat so many parsnips. As time passed on, your gut grew larger and larger, but your self-image remained the same. That old t-shirt that always fit so well stretched to a point where one didn't need imagination to know what you looked like sans clothing, and you woke up this morning and thought, “Fuck it! It ain't anything they haven't seen already.” I severely doubt this is the case and you don't live in some quaint back street of Budapest. You live near Keleti Train station, one of the busiest places in the city, often the first port of call for any visiting foreigner. When tourists come to this city to see the grandiose things erected in this great city, they aren't expecting your nipples.

Which brings me to another point. Are you so well insulated that you failed to notice the chilly temperatures, the biting wind, and the continuous downpour of rain? When even the city's hookers were wrapped in worn down winter coats, did you not find it strange to go for a stroll with just your bare skin to protect you from this cold snap that has plagued us for the last week? This is not a sudden freak drop in temperature, it's been like this for many days and the forecast doesn't predict it to end any time soon. Parsnips won't protect you from the elements.

So please, fat man buying vegetables without a shirt, please remember to wear clothing. Not because it's Wednesday, not because it's cold and rainy, not because this is Keleti Raiway Station, and not even because you're fat. Just do it because you are a grown man. And grown men should know how to dress themselves.

Sincerely,

Aaron

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