Free Bread

The self-control of fatasses across the globe has been tested for centuries time and time again by a small and often overlooked component of the restaurant industry: free bread.

Becoming notably apparent to me within the past couple of days, free bread is an ever-present fatty hazard lurking around every corner. Italian restaurants, pizza parlors, Pat & Oscar’s, The Olive Garden… EVERYWHERE. For instance, the other night, I went to Mamma D’s with some friends and there I was introseduced to their absolutely heavenly bread. Every couple of minutes or so, the pretty bitch with the basket would come wheeling around with a smile on her face and say “more bread?” And I’d look up at her with my kankles, teary eyes, clogged arteries and mouth full and simply nod “yes.”

Another night shortly after, I found myself at California Pizza Kitchen for a going away party. I had forgotten my wallet in my car so the server kept bringing me bread. Plate after plate. Slice after slice. Butter packet after butter packet. The only going away I was concerned about that night was that of my non-diabetic status.

The moral of this story is: take it when you can get it, folks. Fatties, there’s a recession going on out there. These days, when someone offers you free food, you snatch it and run. And if you’re not hungry (which… I mean let’s be real, when does that happen?) you grab it, stick it in your purse and save it for later.

These are the Confessions of a Fat Bitch.