Have Your Cake & Eat It

‘It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat,’ said Michael. He was methodically eating all the chips on his plate, one by one, pausing between chewing to speak. As a result, his words came out a bit muffled. Gavin sighed.

              ‘But, the way I see it, if you plan for defeat then you won’t be disappointed if you lose,’ said Gavin. He’d finished his meal several minutes earlier and was watching Michael’s chips with envy. ‘And if you win, it will be a nice surprise. It will feel even better than a win.’

              ‘But that doesn’t take into account,’ Michael stopped for a breath, ‘the impact of the idea of defeat on your performance. If you think you’re going to lose, you’re more likely to lose. If you convince yourself you’re going to win, you’re more likely to achieve that goal. The power of positive thinking and that.’ He stuffed the final chip into his mouth and smiled.

              ‘Well,’ said Gavin. ‘There’s something else you can do – bet against yourself. Put a bet on that you’ll lose. That way, if you win, you’re happy and it doesn’t matter that you lost the bet. But if you lose, at least you won the bet.’

              ‘But doesn’t that make you more likely to lose? Because you’re thinking of winning the bet, so you don’t put the effort in.’

              Gavin sighed again. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. He was very much regretting putting his name down for the Man Vs Food competition. On the surface, he was a shoo-in. He had the biggest appetite of anyone that he knew. He loved food and could eat it all day. This had led to a period of obesity when he was teenager, probably the worst time to be obese. No girl had come near him, and he’d retreated into his bedroom for a couple of years. It was only really his friendship with Michael that had sustained him.

They’d met at primary school and had now known each other for more than twenty years. After school, Michael had gone to university whereas Gavin had got a job in the local supermarket. He was now the manager of the supermarket. Michael was an accountant, and had moved back to their small town with his wife Emma. Gavin had had a series of girlfriends, but was still single. Gavin and Michael met up once a week for chat, often ending up in the pub, eating chips.

‘It’s like when we were younger – remember when you were really fat?’ Michael said.

‘Thanks for reminding me,’ said Gavin.

‘But you beat it. I mean, you really dedicated yourself to slimming down, and you did it,’ said Michael.

It was true. Michael had encouraged him to go on a diet, join Weight Watchers and taking up jogging. Gavin was very reluctant to do it at first. Weight Watchers was a predominately female domain. In a way, though, that’s what swung it. By joining the meetings, he got to meet girls again, girls who were going through the same thing that he was. For a while, he’d gone out with one of them, a girl called Samantha. In the end, though, she’d left him. Bizarrely, as far as he was concerned, because he’d lost so much weight. Samantha had only managed to lose a few pounds, and she’d told him that she ‘felt like a loser’ for not losing more. The irony was not lost on him.

‘But now, when I do this…’ Gavin began, ‘if I do this, it’s the opposite. What I mean is, I’ll put the weight back on.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Michael, ‘it’s just one meal. A very big one, but just one. It shouldn’t have an effect on your weight if you stick to your normal diet the rest of the time.’

‘But what you don’t realise,’ said Gavin, ‘is that I’m not really prepared for it any more. I’m not sure that I can do it now. My stomach, it’s no longer used to all that food.’

‘Gavin, Gavin,’ said Michael, ‘there’s your defeatist attitude again. I saw you looking at my chips. You wanted mine as well as yours, didn’t you? The hunger’s still there.’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think I should have entered,’ said Gavin. ‘It’s like entering a former alcoholic into a drinking competition. It could be dangerous.’

‘Well,’ said Michael, ‘it’s too late. You’ve entered now, and you’re going to win.’

The audience were a mixed bag. Obviously, it was mostly friends and family, from what he could see. But there were also other people there, keen to see how gluttonous the contestants could be. Sighing, Gavin sat down in front of his plate. It was the first stage, a massive fry-up. Two packets of bacon, five sausages, a dozen fried eggs, a round of fried bread, a tin of baked beans, black pudding, and fried tomatoes. Basically, a heart attack on a plate. He could feel his arteries hardening just looking at it.

              There were three other contestants. Next to him was a young, painfully thin man with glasses. He looked delighted as he sat down. It was hard to imagine someone so thin eating more than a lettuce leaf, but perhaps this was the first proper meal he’d had for a while. The woman on the other side was a different matter. She was quite fat, if not obese. She regarded her plate with a steely, resolved gaze. On the far side of her was another woman. Gavin couldn’t see her very clearly.

              ‘Okay,’ said Steve, the compere. He was wearing a migraine-inducing stripy suit and brandishing a microphone, which buzzed as he spoke into it. ‘Welcome to the Man Vs Food, or should I say Person Vs Food, as half of our contestants are female, competition! Up for grabs is an all-you-can eat meal for two at Tony’s Diner, and this delicious ham, donated by Gray’s Butchers. I daresay none of our contestants will be able to face either of those after this, but there you go!’ He paused for a laugh which never came. The audience were impatient for the show to start.

              ‘Anyway,’ Steve continued, ‘our contestants are Paul, Gavin, Janice and Sam. Give it up!’ The audience gave a reluctant round of applause. Gavin could see Michael at the front, clapping enthusiastically and nodding at him. ‘The first round is the belly-buster fry-up, courtesy of Tony’s Diner. If you like what you see, why not give them a visit?’ Gavin couldn’t help but think that Tony’s business model was flawed. Sure, looking at the food now, people might be hungry. But after watching the four of them attempt to devour the fry-up, who was going to want to go and eat there? Watching other people eat was never fun, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t understand the people who’d come along just to watch.

              ‘On your marks, get set, EAT!’ Steve shouted. The crowd started to cheer. Gavin picked up his knife and fork and started to shovel the food into his mouth. It was a long time since he’d had a fry-up, and he realised how much he missed it. The salty, crisp bacon, the greasy bread, the savoury sausage, the smooth burst of the egg yolk… before he’d realised what was happening, his plate was clean, and he didn’t even feel full.

              ‘Well done Paul, Gavin, and Sam!’ shouted Steve. ‘Paul was first there, followed by Sam, and then Gavin.’ Gavin looked around. The thin man was sitting back, having finished the fry-up some time ago. The woman on the far side was also relaxing, from what he could make out. But the woman next to him had given up with half of the fry-up still on her plate and was shaking her head.

              ‘Sorry, Janice,’ said Steve. ‘You’re out.’ Janice got to her feet and walked into the crowd without a word, where she was embraced by a stocky man with a beard.

              ‘Never mind, love,’ he said, ‘you gave it your best shot.’

              ‘Now,’ said Steve, ‘onto the next course. Fish and chips! Courtesy of Al’s Fish Bar. If you like what you see, why not give them a visit?’ An army of waiters emerged to clear their plates away and replace them with a chip supper. There was an alarming high pile of chips, and an entire battered cod, along with a large pot of mushy peas.

              ‘This isn’t fair!’ cried the thin man, ‘I hate mushy peas. I clearly stated in my application that I shouldn’t have to eat them.’

‘Sorry Paul,’ said Steve, ‘I’m afraid the organisers of the competition reserve the right to serve up whatever they see fit. You don’t get a choice.’

‘This competition is absolute farce,’ said Paul, and got to his feet and walked off. The crowd booed him as he walked straight out of the building.

‘Hmm,’ said Steve, ‘Far be it for me to cast aspersions, but I suspect Paul was feeling a little full.’ Again, he waited for a laugh which didn’t come. ‘Anyway, here we go: on your marks, get set, EAT!’

Gavin dived into his fish and chips with gusto. Once again, he felt nostalgic as he shovelled it into his mouth. He’d had many a chip over the years, but a battered cod was trip down memory lane. Before he knew it, he’d eaten the lot.

‘Well done Gavin and Sam!’ said Steve. ‘I think Sam was first that time.’ Gavin turned towards the remaining woman, who grinned at him. She had long blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a lovely smile. Suddenly, he realised who it was. His old girlfriend Samantha! Gavin hadn’t seen Samantha for years, but she’d hadn’t changed much. She was still overweight, but Gavin couldn’t help but think that it suited her.

‘Okay,’ said Steve. ‘This is it – the final round.’ Once again, the waiters emerged, and once again their plates were refreshed. This time with an enormous cake. Chocolate, butter cream, cherries… Gavin gulped. Sweet things were not his strong point.

‘The show-stopper black forest gateau cake, courtesy of Gemma’s Bakery. If you like what you see, why not give them a visit? On your marks, get set, EAT!’

Gavin began, but after a couple of forkfuls he felt his stomach lurch. He put his fork down and breathed in deeply.

‘Gavin, Gavin, you can do it!’ Michael was yelling at him from the front of the crowd. ‘Believe in yourself, don’t give up!’ Gavin sighed. He picked up his fork and shovelled a few more mouthfuls in, but it was no good. His stomach was having none of it. If he ate any more, he’d vomit, and no-one wanted to see that.

‘Well done, Sam!’ shouted Steve, ‘the clear winner!’

Gavin turned to see that Sam had indeed cleared her plate. She turned and smiled at him again. The crowd erupted in cheers. Sam got up from her chair, and two other women jumped on to the stage and hugged her. ‘I knew you could do it!’ one of them said. After hugging her friends, Sam turned and walked towards him.

 ‘Hi Gav!’ she said, ‘I thought it was you. Then I thought it couldn’t be. You being a reformed man and that. I didn’t think you ate any of this stuff any more.’

‘Well,’ said Gavin, ‘I couldn’t eat it all…’

Sam laughed. ‘No, you were never a dessert fan, were you?’ she said. ‘Hey, do you want to share my prize at Tony’s Diner? I was going to take Katie or Chris,’ she nodded to her two friends, ‘but they’re both on a diet.’

Gavin smiled, ‘Yes, why not? It’d be great to catch up.’

Gavin turned to see Michael stepping on to the stage. ‘Gavin, Gavin,’ he said, ‘what happened? You were doing so well. I really thought you had it. I blame your defeatist attitude. You’re just not positive enough.’

‘Well, Michael,’ Gavin said, ‘you may be right. But then again, don’t they say it’s the taking part that counts?’