Trans Fat

 

Caption: "Where's the BEEF!"

If you've been reading these short stories I've been doling out to you, you might have noticed they are pretty darn short. Actually that's just 'cause I've been easing you into them.  They are about to get longer and thus the need for serialization. So just a friendly reminder you'll have to go back in time, to read forward and get the WHOLE story.

Maybe this will help me understand physics. Time and Space?

My decision to do this short story thing comes only after reading through them all. I need to feel confident they are standing the test of time. And you know, with just a few revisions, some jargon changes, and that sort  of thing, they seem to be holding up.  But I, of course, am the only judge on the panel.  We'll see. If you all go away I'll get  the message.

 

 When someone says Short Story? You're thinkin' fiction, Right? Well that is certainly true of the first two, but from here on out these short stories are mostly non-fiction. To some degree? They happen.

We'd have to be blind to have not noticed all the "fast food" chains scrambling to get rid of "Trans Fat" in their cooking. They know the current fad is to at least talk about getting healthy, ergo skinny.  

This is an industry determined to hang on to that market share they've fought long and hard to garner. And this is a determination oddly much older than most of us. And that's why I think I can still tell the story:

 

                        NOT SO FAST

            by Paul Reinertson circa 1984

Lately I pride myself on my eating habits. That means I'm throwing down a bunch of fresh veggies and fruit every day.  But that does not mean I'm immune to the advertising for "junk food" and "fast food restaurants." Openly these industries properly assume two things; that people gethungry, and they often have to eat on the run. I admit to being in both postures a time or two. But I have observed of late that there is something more sinister attracting us to the "Jack In The Boxes," etal. My observation comes to a head recently whilst I'm in a hurry, and stop off for a quickie at Mac Donalds.

I notice the lobby, or whatever we call it, is packed. I decide my time will be better spent in the drive thru. [I dont' know if it's urban myth ? But have you heard that one of the chains has one or two people working in Texas, who take ALL the drive up orders in the country.]

It is amazing how many of us are comfortable having long drawn out conversations with little electronic boxes of all ilk. It's been going on for so long now I don't even know if I have an attitude about it any more. It would still be nice to know if someone is talking to his or herself instead of the boxes. I mean who do you institutionalize? But I stray.

How have these purveyors of "trans fats" been able to stay one step ahead of our needs. The fascination dims a bit as I realize they've actually been CREATING the needs. Good product development? More like sinister capitalistic product development, and killer advertising.

Early mass distribution of junk food in this country came with a built in ploy. The way to get people to buy a product is to addict them to it, literally. Your great grand parents, for instance, were likely drinking coke that actually had cocaine as one of it's ingredients. In our later generations we've been lured into "junk food dens" by secret sauces, cancer causing charcoal, and of course our favorite, "trans fat" deep fried chicken breasts and french fries.  Tack on the hiring of the best advertising people on the planet, and we are HOOKED. How HOOKED?

I'm back in the drive thru at Mac Donalds still trying to decide what poundage I'll want in my hamburger when I reach THE BOX. To my right I notice a man behind the wheel of one of those pickups that sit 20 feet in the air? You know they sit on top of tires stolen off a 747?  It is mettallic black in color with big silver exhaust pipes  running up the sides. 

Now to tell you that he is to my right? That should tell you he is NOT in line? At least all of us who ARE in line feel that way. Apparently he is not of the same opinion. He keeps motioning to us to make room forhim up front. 

Now, if we are out on the highway, cruising along at a pretty good clip? And this guy wants me get over? Rest easy.  I will comply. But this is the Mac Donald's drive thru, and this irreverant man must not be tolerated.  

We who are in line tighten ranks. It is impossible for him to squeeze in. Seeing this automotive intimidation isn't workinig, he stoops to verbal abuse.

"Hey! Let me in!"

Some eloquence, eh?  

[I think he follows that up with an exclamation and physical gesture of some sort. My memory is a little soft on those issues.]

The general reaction is for the other hungry motorists to roll up there windows and crank up the volume on their Ipods and other digital gizmos. But not old curious me. What is driving this man to this level of desperation? I roll MY window DOWN.

"Hey, let me in!"

"Why?"

"I'm in a hurry."

"It's my suspicion that just about everybody in this line is in a hurry. What makes you special.?"

He gets this really odd look like I've just gone over his head.    

"Look man, I've got to get back to work in five minutes and I need my chicken sandwich with special sauce. I'm going to be sick all afternoon if I don't get it. "

"Sorry," I reply and join my compatriots in opting to listen to digital high def bliss.

He, the guy, revs up his engine, blows some black smoke out his exhaust units, jumps the curb, crosses three lanes of traffic without looking, and vanishes. This is "FAST FOOD ADDICTION."

But this is not the whole story. You'll have to come back for more. And you should because we are going to take a trip to San Francisco. See you then.

[YES I KNOW THEY DIDN'T HAVE IPODS IN '84.]