Will you be my friend??

What is it about fat people. It seems to me that I always get one trying to befriend me as a kindred spirit. I can just hear them thinking to themselves as they try to strike up a conversation, "no one else understands my desire to eat ho ho's." Except that, despite my size, I do not eat like a fat person. I do not understand the urge to ingest things like ding dongs and Twinkies and little Debbie's snack cakes or Zingers, snowballs or Suzy Q's. It's space food. I, at no point am going to awaken from a dead sleep and crave chili cheese fries from Denny's. There will be no Zebra cakes or Cosmic Brownies, Strawberry Shortcake rolls or Honey Buns. I do not feel YooHoo is an acceptable alternative to water. I feel nothing akin to the kind of man who eats meatball subs. You know the kind, overweight Guido, hair slicked back with what we can hope (but can not realistically expect) to be pomade, sitting in a Lincoln Continental slopping red sauce on his already soiled wife beater. I do not make a habit of consuming Tasty Kakes or moon pies or strange oatmeal cookie sandwiches. And still they come. One in every crowd. Lumbering toward me and just certain that I will understand the need for Hostess cupcakes and Yodels.