Food Overdose

December 1, 2009

Home » Commentary » Food Overdose

Friday morning after Thanksgiving Abernathy called from San Diego where he was unable to extricate himself from bed.

“God,” I said, “you’ve haven’t fallen off the wagon again.”

“I’m afraid I have.”

“You must accept you’re an alcoholic and powerless under the influence of tequila.”

“I’m not talking about alcohol; I’m talking food.”

“Stay off meat.  It makes you eat like a starving lion.”

“I didn’t eat turkey yesterday.”

“What caused the hangover?”

“It started Tuesday at work.  About ten o’clock a lady gave me two baked potatoes filled with ground beef, corn, onions, and lots of delectable but unidentifiable spices.”

“How could you finish both?” I asked.

“I hadn’t planned to but part of the potatoes must have been hollowed out since they felt quite light and went down fast.  Then after my regular lunch…”

“That’s it right there.  You should’ve compensated by skipping lunch.”

“I couldn’t.  Every day when the clock hits noon, I start salivating.”

“Like Pavlov’s dogs.”

“Yeah, but I still would’ve been all right if another lady hadn’t brought me a couple of pupusas that afternoon.”

“What’re pupusas?”

“They’re kinda like two thick, soft, greasy tortillas, often made of pig skin, that have dynamite inside.  In this case they were stuffed with hot frijoles.”

“You could’ve said no thanks.”

“No, I couldn’t have.”

“I suppose you had your regular dinner that evening.”

“Right, but I recovered.  A more serious problem started about one Wednesday afternoon.  I got off work early and went to the deli.  I promised my sister and her husband I’d bring some incredible chicken and fruit salad for Thanksgiving Day.  She was delighted because she didn’t want to roast one of those messy turkeys.”

“Don’t tell me…”

“Listen, I only bought a pound of baked breasts, sliced thin in the deli, and a couple pounds of fruit salad.  Soon as I got out of the store I knew I was in trouble.  But I tried.  I grabbed my cell phone and called and told them I’d come right over and we’d have lunch.  But they’d already eaten and were going to see friends.”

“Why didn’t you simply put the food in the refrigerator until Thursday?”

“I was hungry so I just had a slice or two of chicken and a few spoonfuls of fruit salad.  Then I went to my computer and planned to spend the rest of the day working.  And I did, except for occasionally stepping to the refrigerator.”

“You ate three pounds of deli food for lunch,” I scolded.

“Only all the chicken and half the fruit salad.  At that point I had a poultry and sugar attack – they put so much whipped cream in those salads.  I had to take a nap.”

“What did your wife say?”

“She woke me when she got home from work, and I told her leave me alone.  She’s always been jealous of my naps.”

“I hope you went back to the deli so you’d have meat to take to your sister’s,” I said.

“No way.  As I was finishing the rest of the fruit salad, I vowed to become a vegetarian.”

“You’ll never stick to that.”

“That’s what you and everyone else said about alcohol.”

“Thankfully, we’ve been wrong about that, so far.  Without meat and alcohol, you should’ve been okay.”
“Well, they offered me nuts.  Anything salty is impossible to stop eating, and I had several handfuls.  The dinner itself was quite healthy – rice, green beans, cranberry sauce, salad, and bread.  You can eat a lot of that stuff without serious consequences, and I wasn’t sick after dinner.  But they had to bring out dessert: cherry pie, apple strudel, ice cream, chocolate candy.  I don’t keep that junk in my house.”

“You’ve could’ve said no thanks.”

“Quit saying that.  Only squares decline a feast.”

“How many helpings did you have?”

“Three or four of each.”

“Glutton,” I said.

“Anorexic,” he countered.

He should’ve also called me deceitful.  Unbeknownst to everyone but my wife, who has forgone regular complaints due to my running several miles six days a week to maintain the vigor she requires, I’m at least as much a pig as the sedentary Abernathy.  At two a.m. I often swoop into the refrigerator and grab a slice of raw bacon, roll it up, and down it in a bite.  Salami, large shrimp, cheese, and crackers are similarly disposed of while two chomps eliminate a cold hot dog.  And, out in a hidden drawer in the garage, I horde cupcakes, half-moon pies, and cookies to eat when I’m alone.  Sometimes the crumbs attract my wife’s notice; sometimes they attract ants.  I spray the latter and tell the former I’ll run ten miles tomorrow.

Posted in ,

George Thomas Clark

George Thomas Clark is the author of Hitler Here, a biographical novel published in India and the Czech Republic as well as the United States. His commentaries for are read in more than 50 countries a month.

Recent Commentary


HITLER HERE is a well researched and lyrically written biographical novel offering first-person stories by the Fuehrer and a variety of other characters. This intimate approach invites the reader to peer into Hitler’s mind, talk to Eva Braun, joust with Goering, Goebbels, and Himmler, debate with the generals, fight on land and at sea and…
See More
Art history and fiction merge to reveal the lives and emotions of great painters Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, William H. Johnson, Lee Krasner, and many others.
See More
This fast-moving collection blends fiction and movie history to illuminate the stimulating lives and careers of noted actors, actresses, and directors. Stars of this book include Humphrey Bogart, Clark Gable, Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, Alfred Hitchcock, Clint Eastwood, Cate Blanchett, and Spike Lee.
See More
In this collection of thirty-eight chiseled short stories, George Thomas Clark introduces readers to actors, alcoholics, addicts, writers famous and unknown, a general, a lovelorn farmer, a family besieged by cancer, extraterrestrials threatening the world, a couple time traveling back to a critical battle, a deranged husband chasing his wife, and many more memorable people…
See More
Anne Frank On Tour and Other Stories
This lively collection offers literary short stories founded on History, Love, Need, Excess, and Final Acts.
See More
In lucid prose author George Thomas Clark recalls the challenges of growing up in a family beset by divorce, depression, and alcoholism, and battling similar problems as an adult.
See More
Let’s invite many of the greatest boxers and their contemporaries to tell their own stories, some true, others tales based on history. The result is a fascinating look into the lives and battles of those who thrilled millions but often ruined themselves while so doing.
See More
In a rousing trip through the worlds of basketball and football, George Thomas Clark explores the professional basketball league in Mexico, the Herculean talents of Wilt Chamberlain, the artistry of LeBron James, the brilliance of Bill Walsh, and lots more. Half the stories are nonfiction and others are satirical pieces guided by the unwavering hand of an inspired storyteller.
See More
Get on board this collection of satirical stories, based on news, about the entertaining but absurd and often quite dangerous events following the election of President Donald J. Trump in November 2016 until January 6, 2021, shortly after his loss to Joe Biden.
See More
Join Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, Bernie Sanders, Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, Jeb Bush and other notables on a raucous ride into a fictional world infused with facts from one of the roughest political races in modern U.S. history.
See More
History and literary fiction enliven the Barack Obama phenomenon from the African roots of his father and grandfather to the United States where young Obama struggles to control vices and establish his racial identity. Soon, the young politician is soaring but under fire from a variety of adversaries including Hillary Clinton, John McCain, Sarah Palin, Sean Hannity, and Rush Limbaugh.
See More
These satirical columns allow startlingly candid Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush to explain their need to control the destinies of countries, regions, and, ultimately, the world. Osama bin Laden, Dick Cheney, Condoleezza Rice, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Karl Rove, and other notables, not all famous, also demand part of the stage.
See More
Where Will We Sleep
Determined to learn more about those who fate did not favor, the author toured tattered, handmade refuges of those without homes and interviewed them on the streets and in homeless shelters, and conversed with the poor in the United States, Mexico, Ecuador, and Spain, and on occasion wrote composite stories to illuminate their difficult lives.
See More
In search of stimulating stories, the author interviewed prostitutes in Madrid, Mexico City, Havana, and Managua and on many boulevards in the United States, and he talked to detectives and rode the rough roads of social workers who deal with human trafficking, which is contemporary slavery, and sometimes used several lives to create stories, and everywhere he ventured he witnessed struggles of those whose lives are bound In Other Hands.
See More
In compressed language Clark presents a compilation of short stories and creative columns about relationships between men and women.
See More