On the hassles of having a newly protruding belly

I was going to write about something else until my belt snapped in a public restroom about 15 minutes prior to typing this. Never mind the humiliation or the fact that I had a cheese steak still waiting to be eaten outside. The belt wasn’t even mine; it was my brother’s.

So there I was, sifting through the fat signs and how they’ve added up: from obvious ones like moving to a waist size of 34 from 32, to finding medium shirts suddenly too small, to actually considering meals without rice.

My recently fatty self wasn’t terrible, come to ponder it. But it made me examine how the many small inconveniences have lard-balled into a bigger hassle. Thus, a few thoughts:

1. It can be embarrassing.

Right after my belt snapped (and made a slapping noise), I was humiliated because there were two dudes standing around. Then, more of it: I pretended I didn’t need the belt any longer, so I took it off and coiled it up.

2. Mirrors have not been on my side.

For an otherwise average-weighing guy like me, having that extra belly can also be a hassle in places with mirrors all over, like restaurants and barber shops. Sitting causes the stomach to protrude, and before you know it, you are now the fluffiest person in sight. Who cares na lang.

Man vs. Zingers: TV shows like Man vs. Food made me call KFC for two Zingers and one Bucket of Fries one night. I guess I have no one to blame but myself.

3. Stop the lies and adjust the shirt size.

I have never been big on dieting myself, so on top of brisk walking and drumming, I simply adjust my shirt size. My personal tip for lazy kids out there is when trying on shirts, make sure you sit down inside the fitting room to see if the shirt doesn’t give you a belly. Or crouch if the room doesn’t have a chair. It also helps being honest with your true size. You don’t want to be looking like a sad longganisa, tightly wound up in your new shirt.

4. I miss wearing some clothes. And it’s only been a few months since I bought them.

It sucks to see polos that are too small in the closet, clothes you’ll never wear unless you take a deep breath. It’s either you now buy clothes that anticipate weight gain, or you do the stomach-in maneuver. I am so into the former. Actually, both at the same time.

5. The truth bombs can hurt.

I’ve been called variations of “ang payat mo na pero ang taba ng tiyan” (you’re thin already but your tummy’s fat) ever since I gained some tummy weight. Hurtful, but tolerable. I know it’s true; I just don’t remember asking you for an observation, you jej.

6. I can’t take off my shirts during gigs.

Frustratingly, the sitting causes a protruding of one’s flab so I avoid doing it so I can focus on playing the drums instead of my gut vibrating in front of a hundred people. I leave it to my standing friends to go shirtless for me.

7. Despite everything, rice is still nice.

The obese Futurama character Bender ends up dying with a grilled cheese stuck in his fatty lumps.

Maybe I’ve yet to realize I have to cut down. Or, work out. At the end of the day, if rice and all its carbs translate to happiness, then go for it. Maybe when you’re happy enough, you’ll push yourself to get some serious weight loss plan going — or not. Shinjuku’s chahan, Mann Hann’s salted fish fried rice, Poco Deli bacon rice, S.R. Thai’s seafood fried rice, Chicken Bacolod’s java rice with garlic bits — how can you resist all that? You don’t. Rice is nice, guys.