Jabba The Slut

Recent events have caused me to believe that my life constitutes as both a comedy and a tragedy. It's a comedy for those watching the tragic events that happen to me on a daily basis. Most often, the tragic events are things like the time I was about to hook up with this guy I really liked but then he started throwing up, or the time I was getting my eyebrows waxed and the old asian woman accidentally groped me, or when I brought that guy back to my dorm and he kept trying to finger my butthole (see: "Butthole Intruder"). I've grown accustomed to tragic events happening to me, but never did I think about the ways I make my own life tragic. Some people are born tragic, others have tragedy thrust upon them, but today's tragic event was completely my doing.
I doing my typical "I have nothing to wear" routine this morning while I was trying to get dressed. Dissatisfied with every piece of clothing that I own, I trekked across the hall into my sisters room and sought refuge in her closet.
"Oh my god, yes! I forgot she had this!" I pulled out a classic American Apparel spandex dress that I used to steal from my sister all the time in high school. It had been my go-to dress for countless parties; this dress and I had so many fond memories together that I decided to bring it out of retirement for the day. The dress and I retreated back to my room and with exhilaration I compressed my body into its spandex binding. But my exhilaration turned into desperation the second I saw my reflection in the mirror. The dress looked very different on my current self than it did on my high school self to say the least. Whereas last year the dress used to silhouette my figure in a sexy way, the spandex was grasping my body creating rolls I didn't even know I had. My body was packed into the dress dying to bust out, like a sausage, or those health class bananas that are too big for their condoms. The dress no longer consisted of enough fabric for my apparently obese body, making me look like both a whore and glutton. I was Jabba The Slut.
"How did this happen to me?" I asked my reflection. Up until then I hadn't thought my body had changed in college, but once I began thinking about how my lifestyle had changed it made more and more sense. My diet of drinking three nights a weekend had definitely contributed, and in addition my drunken nights had almost always ended in me knocking on my neighbor's doors asking to borrow a dollar for the vending machine. Who knew fratting was so fattening? Even worse than my deplorably gluttonous diet was the fact that my going-outfits had only gotten smaller and tighter throughout the semester to the extent that I really should have charged whichever frat boy was walking up the stairs behind me. My college lifestyle had gotten the best of me and I'd turned into Jabba The Slut completely unknowingly. I changed my body out of the spandex dress, tied up my running shoes, and hoped the force would be with me during my three miler.