My Doctor II

 What is particularly galling about my doctor is his "session note": "learning about healthy weight."

I find this condescending. First, my weight was exactly at the dividing line between "normal" and "overweight." I think this fact should be included in a footnote. Second, I didn't do any "learning." It's not like I walked in thinking, "French toast is a wiser choice than salmon--this is true from every possible angle."

I know what happened. Last year, I discovered bacon. I would travel to the Frick Collection--and, en route, I would eat bacon. I think that, in my head, the virtuousness of the Frick mission "cancelled out" the bacon. Once this was established, I found myself straying even more. Bacon could yield to steak and eggs or to buttermilk pancakes or to pancakes-with-bacon. After the Frick, I would treat myself to a snack--and the snack would not be apple slices or unsalted peanuts. The snack would be three-fourths of my son's discarded high-fat "breakfast cake."

When you're this far down the slippery slope, you just decide, Fuck it. Let's add a nightly dessert.

So: None of this is rocket science. I'm not trying to solve the murder on the Orient Express.

In my former life, the bacon would arrive underneath a mound of garlic aioli. There was hot sauce on the side. The fat from the bacon would soften the sourdough bread, which was sliced thick; the crusts were really "loud," not-subtle. You could eat your way around the toothpick....Or you could pluck out the pick....as a kind of "preparatory gesture".....a way of delaying gratification....a wonderful, extra, anticipatory second.....right before the feast.....