Being fat is the absolute nadir of the misfit. You’re a misfit because nothing fits. You don’t fit in. You’re not fit. You’re fat. Fat doesn’t have the poetic cachet of alcohol, the whiff of danger in the drug of choice. You’re just fat. Being fat is so un-American, so unattractive, unerotic, unfashionable, undisciplined, unthinkable, uncool. It makes you invisible. It makes you conspicuous.