GUTTED LIKE A PIG

Jared was fat. He's always been fat. He didn't look like a muffin top so much as a flowing lava cake. Life throws some pretty mean punches without being an object of ridicule. For people like Jared, every day was an emotional beat down.

He thought things would be better after High School. When children are developing, they feel awkward and insecure. They don't know who they are and fear not having a place in their social system. They choose and distinguish inferiors in a way to establish themselves as superiors. Although savage, it's logical. But this is just a developing stage they grow out of. This trite struggle to establish ranking in the social class doesn't exist beyond High School, does it?

It most certainly does.

Jared enrolled in a community college and moved into a dorm on campus. The social structure was the same. Only now the students had a naive arrogance developed from the delusion that they had now transcended into adulthood. Jared also noticed the technique in which superiors treated the inferiors was different. It was more subtle and secretive, but stung just as bad. Nothing had changed, and Jared still went home feeling the shit kicked out of him.

The general ed classes Jared took were just a way to move forward. But he had no idea what he wanted to do for a living and the future terrified him. Outside of classes, Jared's world existed in his solitary dorm. A virgin geek palace. He'd listen to songs by "Weezer" about not fitting in while starting flame wars on movie blogs. His alias: SuaveJabba. To everyone on the other end of the fiber-optics, SuaveJabba was a god.

One day he was sitting in a Starbucks sipping down a Mocha while chatting on his favorite blog. He was debating why "Green Hornet" is the worst comic book adaptation to come out since "Daredevil". A few guys from a nearby office came in for a fuel up. Dressed in Armani suits and rogaine'd hair, this was success. He observed their behavior from behind his Ibook and noticed a familiarity. Although ten to fifteen years older than Jared's circle of peers, they acted very much the same. They still punched each other in the shoulder while laughing about last night's basketball game. They still bit their fists and gawked at a sexy blond that walked by. They even played cruel games like "Hey Chris. Until you get laid, you're buying the coffee rounds". Hiiiii-laaar-ious. "You better get out there and work your mojo".

Jared took a sip from his mocha, slurping up the whip cream sludge at the bottom. Flowing text from incoming comments reflected in shimmering blue on his glasses. A large flash of color became a distraction in the corner of his eye. He looked over to see a portly woman in a red dress enter the coffee house. If her size didn't announce her arrival, the jangle of the door bell did. The three suited men turned and noticed. It was Claire from the office.

It was like WILD KINGDOM for Jared studying the behaviors of these mysterious animals. Marlin Perkins out in the savage lands of man...STARBUCKS. Curiously, Jared watched on. The tall guy in the pink shirt welcomed her, "You needed a pick up too".

Claire slouched in melodramatic exhaustion. "I just can't stay awake. Monday slumps".

All three of the choir boys chimed in, "I hear that".

Interesting. Could it be that somewhere between the ages of 20 and 30 humans give up this game of social hierarchy? Jared watched on as the four of them chatted away appearing to be unbounded by any set of social limits. Three latte's arrived and the men left Claire smiling. As they passed by, Jared heard "Pinky" tell Chris, "You know, if it gets bad enough, you can always pork Claire." Out the window, Jared watched them as they silently laughed and made humping motions on their way back to the office. He looked over at Claire. Glowing with apple bliss cheeks she retrieved her mocha and followed. Nothing changes.

Jared entered his dorm. His video games, World of Warcraft and SuaveJabba no longer brought him happiness. He scrolled through his itunes until he found Elliott Smith (music to be depressed to). He started the playlist with "Pretty (Ugly Before)". The modern shaving razor doesn't serve any other purpose than hygienic upkeep. Maybe the current design is the result of safety evolution. Regardless, everyone has a kitchen knife.

Stripped down to his silky skin, Jared sat in his ergonomic computer chair. It was the top of the line in office furnishing to ensure utmost comfortability in order to endure long hours on your ass. Mr. Smith sang:

Sunshine been keeping me up for days
There is no nighttime, it's only a passing phase
And I feel pretty, pretty enough for you
I felt so ugly before
I didn't know what to do

Jared looked down on his belly that hung over his legs. His knees poked out like two mounds on the horizon. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his own penis. It has been a constant struggle being fat. It's not that Jared was comfortable being that way. It was just so hard to change his behavior. The worse he felt about himself, the more he ate. The more he ate, the worse he looked. It was a malevolent cycle.

Sunshine been keeping me up for days
There is no nighttime, only a passing phase
And I'll feel pretty another hour or two
I felt so ugly before
I didn't know what to do

Jared took the butcher knife in his hand and pointed it down towards his Xiphoid process. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He plunged the knife deep into his bowels and slowly slit his belly open from sternum to pelvis. Out poured everything that made him fat; everything that made him a buffoon; everything that made him ashamed. For the last moments of his life, he was thin.

I felt so ugly before
I didn't know what to do
I felt so ugly before
I didn't know what to do

Before he died, Jared exerted enough strength to post his last comment in blood on his chest. IF IT DOESN'T GET ANY BETTER...WHAT'S THE POINT IN LIVING?

signed SUAVEJABBA.

Copyright 2011, Gris Grimly