What a Nice Guy by Phil Torcivia

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Self-Deprivation causes much irritation.

Since I expect to find myself shirtless by a pool in the coming months, I've joined my fellow huskies and adjusted my meals accordingly.

Yesterday at the sub shop I ordered a turkey salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side. As I dipped my leafy greens I couldn't avoid the sights and scents of meatballs, pastrami, and melted cheese.

I ate angrily.

Those more disciplined than I see choices like these differently. Heck, some even feel sorry for the people one booth over who are mowing their ways toward pasty arteries.

"I feel so much better when I eat right. All I've eaten so far today is two egg whites and an apple."
"Fucking salad."
"Don't be like that. It's so good for you."
"I want to kill something ... and eat it with a wad of wasabi."
"We'll take a long walk this afternoon and splurge a bit for dinner. How about skinless chicken breast and snow peas?"
"No, damn it! I want a big, greasy burger with lots of bacon and cheese. I want waffle-fucking-fries and warm pretzel bites with honey mustard. I want a cookie sandwich of two warm, dark chocolate chip cookies surrounding a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. And, I don't give a drool if it make me lumpy."

The same nonsense goes on with women I'm attracted to, but can't have. If the fellow next to me is enjoying a tasty brunette with a side of morning nookie, I become angry. If one of my attractive female buddies seeks my advice about men while reminding me that my penis is off-limits, I see red. If my lovely wingwoman has a few too many, which makes her extra touchy/flirty, my insides boil.

I can't have any.

When the next day rolls around, I don't look back and take pride in my discipline. No. I deal with the woulda-coulda-shoulda song pounding in my head. So, I'm fat and fucked either way: I'm either mad at myself for gorging like a beast, or my empty stomach is full of regret about what should have been.

When I get to this point it's time to splurge or someone is going to suffer as I purge my frustration. Tonight, instead of veggies, hummus, salmon salad, and light beer, I'm going to have French-Freaking-Onion soup with extra cheese, gnocchi with thick, zesty paste, and a warm, chocolate dessert with a lump of creamy frozen stuff. Heck, I may even have it with a bucket of Baileys and a woman far too young to fondle my sagginess. Good day.

4 comments:

  1. You're a really funny guy, Phil, plus I feel your pain. Roasted veggies are good for that. Exactly what, I shall not say.

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  2. oh i love this!! this is SO how im feeling right now i'm sick of being on a diet and i adore reeces peanut butter cups YUM!!

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  3. You are killing me, Phil! I've been recently told I have type II diabetes (ME! A guy who already ate super healthy and is so active it makes your head spin, with NO genetic diabetic background...). So I've been counting carbs and cutting my portions pretty much in half. It's killing me. Even though it's not killing me. LOL. But reading about your food cravings here has set mine off. Thank you very much.

    Okay, all kidding aside, I'm over here because Joan Hall Hovey recommended you as a great guy to know for promo and such. I'm about to send an email to get my latest paranormal mystery up on your Kindle Daily Deal site. Just wanted to stop in here to follow you and say hi.

    Aaron Lazar
    www.lazarbooks.com

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  4. LOL good job!! The writing really had a unique voice and was really funny!!

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