Guilty Pleasure

It was a sunny day in Los Angeles, California. The birds were splashing in the sprinkler puddles while the family dog lapped at the water on the pavement. A black car parked on the driveway. A woman stepped out and walked into her home from work with an exhausted look on her face. She walks in to find her son, raving angrily because his job has him stressed out. The father ignored them both as he typed on his computer, working on his presentation. Before she went to take a shower, the mom left a cardboard box, gently wrapped in ornate maroon tissue paper, on the kitchen table.

“Que trajiste (what did you bring)?” asked the son.

“La hija de mi paciente le gusta hornear dulces, y me regalo un pedazo de pastel (the daughter of my patient loves to bake, so she gave me a piece of cake),” responded his mother, “Pero ni lo mires. Recuerda la dieta, la doctora se va a enojar (Don’t even look at it. Remember the diet, the doctor will get angry).”

The son did not respond, but agreed inside his head. He recognized the importance of following their diet. If he didn’t, there could be complications with the surgery. So while his mom took a shower, he occupied his mind with tidying up the house. He began by slowly packing up his belongings and dragging them towards the door. He had to finish before the end of the week- he could not leave a mess behind before the plane took off. He had to finish moving out so that his brother could start moving in. He had to clear out the other room so that they could start painting the nursery. His mind raced as he thought about what his future would look like. Despite everything that was going on, he would finally be skinny. Finally, he could buy any shirt he wanted. Finally, he could fit in amusement park rides with his friends. Finally, he could be the person he always wanted to be. Keeping that in mind, he pushed his fears and apprehensions behind him and kept working.

As he marched up and down the house, the son began to feel hungry. He walked into the kitchen, his father still ignoring his every word and action. He looked around for a snack and caught himself staring at that cardboard box. ‘Maybe it won’t hurt to peek’ he thought to himself. He carried the box and hid from his father, thinking he would scold him. To no surprise, he remained ignored. He undid the wrapping and opened the lid oh so surreptitiously, ensuring that the noise would not give him away. But once he saw what was inside, he understood why they say that curiosity killed the cat.

Inside the box was a beautiful, spongy, and appetizing slice of chocolate cake. At least, the son assumed it was a chocolate cake. The voices in his head were at war as he contemplated risking everything for just one bite.

“You shouldn’t. This is the reason why you’re fat. You’ve made the decision to change, stick with it!”

“But’s it’s just one bite… You’ve been walking around all day at work and at home…”

“It’s a lot of empty calories!”

“But you’ve barely eaten all day! You’re living off protein shakes and low-fat yogurt smoothies.”

“For a reason! Everything you’ve been doing for the past few months is to completely overhaul your lifelong bad decisions. Is just one bite really worth your second chance?”

The son hesitated as he put down the box and walked away, only to return a few minutes later and break off a tiny piece of cake. With his appetite satiated, he continued marching up and down the house. However, the thing about compromise is that it’s a gateway to justification. The more the son walked around, the more he sweat; and the more he sweat, the hungrier he got. Before he could realize what he had done, the son found himself circling the kitchen like a shark who had smelled blood from a swimmer’s incision.

He listened for the running water to make sure he still had time to get away with it. He measured his father’s indifference by his focus on his work. Slowly but steadily, he began eating the cake, piece by piece. However, while he was unwise, he was no fool. If the cake disappeared all at once, it would be too obvious. He timed his bites carefully, calculating every move. As he walked back and forth, he would take an occasional break and bite off another excuse from the cardboard box. He’d then mix in diuretic supplements with his water in a desperate attempt to justify his Id and assuage his ego.

As he finished his slice of guilty pleasure, he thought about all the reasons why we was not in the wrong. ‘Work sucks. I do so much for so little and don’t even get appreciated for it. I don’t even have time to finish my lunch. I take calls after hours to reassure the moms that their children are okay. I come home and have a million things to do. I can’t even brush my cat’s fur and now all my clothes are dirty. I deserve this’. With each reassurance, he took another bite until the box was riddled with crumbs and empty promises. As he finished, his mother into the kitchen and glanced at him, wordlessly.

“Perdóname, no pude aguantarme. Estaba delicioso (I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. It was delicious).”

The mom chuckled, “Ya lo se, por eso te dije que no lo abras (I Know, that’s why I told you not to open it).”

The son and the mom laughed as they shared complaints about their exhausting days, while the father grunted and groaned in annoyance at the distracting interruption to his work. Rolling his eyes, the son suggested they walk away towards the living room, leaving stagnation, guilt, and the empty box behind them.

A year later, the son and his mom stepped out of the black car and into the hot and humid summer air. Nothing had changed except for their perspectives. Still self-conscious, the son could feel the glares and stares from the strangers in the sidewalks. ‘Is it because of what I’m wearing? I’m not an asshole, I just saved up for these designer clothes… I wanted to treat myself after graduation,’ he thought to himself. He looked at his mom, fabulously draped in her old favorite dress. It was harder for her at first, but she endured the surgery splendidly and felt like a new woman. As they passed by their old favorite bakery, something caught his attention. There was a very handsome man facing the window. His biceps were tightly wrapped by the sleeves of his cotton shirt. His fade was trim and complimented the shape of his head and face. His skin was flawless and healthy. Once he caught himself staring, he quickly turned away. But shockingly, so did the stranger through the window. Shocked, the son quickly realized he hadn’t been staring at a window.

“Te lo dije, lograste bajar de peso (I told you, you lost weight),” said his mom.

“… gracias. Tenias razón, mama (Thank you, you were right mom).”

The mom smiled and peered through the reflective window, “Se te antoja un pastel? (Are you craving some cake?)”

The son looked at his reflection and smirked, “No.”