Pilgrimage to Pork Central
I am now back from the Land of Expanding Waistlines after a sojourn to the cornfields of Illinois and Iowa. I don't know what it is about the Midwest, whether it's a lack of entertainment or what, but the food is bigger and so are the people. Eating is the number one pastime and menus are more apt to offer additional bacon than a vegetarian alternative. Such is life in a land where The Pig is the cornerstone of economic health. And we're Americans, dammit! Our economic health is more important than physical, mental or spiritual health any day of the week.
Don't get me wrong. I love the Midwest. It is where I was born and bred (or, if you will, bread) and is an underrated region of the country. But the girth of the population is undoubtedly larger than that on either coast.
My husband and I have a running joke here in NYC. When we see an emaciated, female stick figure on the street or subway, we turn to each other and say "business card?" This is our code for evidence of the model-mentality of New York women. We have a stack of business cards for a local (and may I say fabulous?) chain of burger joints called "Jackson Hole" and use them for the sole purpose of telling a total stranger that she is in need of a full-fledged meal. Of course, we never acually GIVE these cards to anyone (that would require a fierce set of balls), it's just the idea that makes us giggle and feel better about the layer of butter rolls resting around our own burgeoning midsections.
On the plane this morning, there was a typical skeletal New Yorker of the female sort standing in front of us as we were waiting to de-plane. We looked at each other and let out a sigh of relief, because seeing that species of wafer thin female indigenous to NYC told us definitively that we were back home again.
Don't get me wrong. I love the Midwest. It is where I was born and bred (or, if you will, bread) and is an underrated region of the country. But the girth of the population is undoubtedly larger than that on either coast.
My husband and I have a running joke here in NYC. When we see an emaciated, female stick figure on the street or subway, we turn to each other and say "business card?" This is our code for evidence of the model-mentality of New York women. We have a stack of business cards for a local (and may I say fabulous?) chain of burger joints called "Jackson Hole" and use them for the sole purpose of telling a total stranger that she is in need of a full-fledged meal. Of course, we never acually GIVE these cards to anyone (that would require a fierce set of balls), it's just the idea that makes us giggle and feel better about the layer of butter rolls resting around our own burgeoning midsections.
On the plane this morning, there was a typical skeletal New Yorker of the female sort standing in front of us as we were waiting to de-plane. We looked at each other and let out a sigh of relief, because seeing that species of wafer thin female indigenous to NYC told us definitively that we were back home again.
posted by Full Frontal Honestyat 8:22 PM
3 Comments:
Let them not eat! More burgers for the rest of us!
Oooh...this is weird. My word verification is sinerstly close to my last name and it's an odd one...
Excellent point!
It's so totally true - I'm always shocked at the number of waifs that strut around NYC - especially compared to places like the Midwest. I lived in St. Louis for 7 years and in the south - Mississippi - for three. Never in my life did I see so much bread and fried food and yes...bacon and sausage. I'll tell you though; people may have been closer to a heart attack, but they were more comfortable with themselves.
When they talk about "dog-eat-dog" mentality in NYC, I don't know where they come up with that. Nobody's eating out here - at least the chicks, anyway.
On that note, I'm going to get some pizza.
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