A Floating Buffet

Seven years ago Lindsay and I went on our first and last cruise. We realized the first night we’re not cut from the red white and blue cloth needed to truly enjoy the Mecca of American excess.

At a “Get to know your fellow cruisers” dinner, we were seated with a very large couple. I’d put their combined weight somewhere around full-sized van. When they nodded to each other, their jowls flapped enough to send a lighter person into flight.

I know there are people in the world with physical problems and emotional pain which cause them to unwittingly gain an astonishing amount of weight. This couple did not fit into that category.

They knew exactly what they were doing, they were content with who they were, and precisely where they wanted to be. There was no sadness, struggling, or wheezing. I found each of them to be glamorous and nimble in their obesity. While I’m confident their weight put them in the category, the last word I would use to describe their disposition is “morbid.”

That’s not to say they were jolly either – just focused. There was no reason to feel bad for them. They each made choices to shorten their lives through a relentless commitment to ingesting wonderful tasting things regardless of saturated fat content.

They were the Syd and Nancy of food – bonded together forever by a shared passion for savory self destruction. I imagined they even took care of each other by making sure neither went more than a few hours without something delicious. Honestly, it was beautiful to see two people so in love and dedicated to a cause. I was inspired, especially when it came time to order.

When the waiter approached, Syd came alive. The spotlight was on him, and he did not disappoint. For an appetizer, Syd ordered the jumbo shrimp cocktail which I found quite reasonable and surprising, given the robust selection of various bisques. I soon found that appetizers weren’t really his thing. It was the entree that was his masterpiece. Without an ounce of guilt or self consciousness, he stared at the waiter and said,

“For the entree, I’ll have the the filet mignon with a side of filet mignon.”

The filet mignon with a side of filet mignon. Syd was the Hemingway of obesity, and I loved him. Not only did he clearly order two entrees, Syd had the audacity to refer to the second one as a side. Mashed potatoes, green beans, corn, and various kinds of indistinguishable squashes and root vegetables – those are sides. Filet mignon is not.

Unless you’re Syd. In the world of Syd and Nancy, a beautiful steak can be both the principle focus and a secondary concern at the same time. It’s like ordering a shot of Jack Daniels with a Jack Daniels chaser. It’s the most badass thing I’ve ever seen. I’ll have some heroin with some additional heroin because I am not here on this earth to mess around.

In a world of people obsessed with their image, it was refreshing to see this couple using their size as a giant middle finger to waify society. “I’m fat, and I’m not beautiful, and I don’t care.” Good for you Syd and Nancy. May the rivers of your heaven flow with Hollandaise.