A few funny things have happened lately that can only happen to a fatty.
1. I went to see "The Break Up", which by the way I found very enjoyable. I love Vince and would like to marry him...(I'm 13...emotionally). Anyway, I went to the theatre and didn't even stop at the snack counter where I usually try to get a medium diet coke for free...(I'm pretty stealth when I need to be). The carpet in the theatre was damp because they had just shampooed them. There wasn't any sign posted about this but I found out as I stepped on the linoleum near the theatre door and went down hard. All 400 lbs of me when into the wall and then splat on the floor. 3 men tried to help me up but it was a no-go. I didn't break anything thank god. But, I did have to maneuver myself in such a way that only a fatty would know to leverage my weight to get upright again. I was shook up, hyperventilating, embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, and basically wanted to disappear. I thought, just get into the theatre - hurry hurry hurry-get into the theatre before people see you....get away from these men that tried to help you up....get away from anybody who saw that....get away from anybody that might say something hurtful....
I got to my seat in the theatre and was having trouble catching my breath. This Latino man who wheels the snack cart from theatre to theatre came over and said in whisper, "Lady, do you need a pill?" I was thinking, shit if you have some valium, vicodin, percocet, etc, that would be great, but I imagine he probably had Advil, so I declined.
Then the manager (19 year old chump in a little suit) came over with a piece of lined paper and asked me to write my name and number down. I was thinking, shit --- throw me down some free passes...but I didn't have my moxie in place at the time and all I got out of the whole thing was a big reminder about how large I am and a cup of theatre water. Hmmpfh.
2. My friend Insightful Ingrid got together and went to dinner at Red Robin (hamburger emporium with bottomless fries) the other night. Both of us had lost tons of weight in Stepford OA but both of us have relapsed again and again. We went to have a meal together and were seated in the corner in the dark....really! there was no light over our table...most people would want to move, but not us -- it was perfect for the embarrassed fatty trying to get her grub on. Anyway, the meal was substandard as all non-abstinent meals are after the first few bites. (It always sounds good until you feel so full you can't breathe.) On our way out of the grease factory the floor was greased up and I literally slid my way to the door. Memories of the movie theatre came rushing back to me while I very carefully tried to skate my way to the door after walking by every patron in the place. FATTY EMBARASSMENT AGAIN.
We decided we would go to Cold Stone for ice cream, but the stipulation was that Ingrid was going to have to go in because I knew it would be crowded and I couldn't stand that long in the line. We pull up and it was extremely crowded. We sat there in the car singing at the top our lungs to Bye Bye Miss American Pie and after the song ended I said, hey lets go to Baskin Robbins instead. Ingrid had been there earlier in the day with her family and the word had stuck in my head. We go on a search for a Baskin Robbins. Ahh, we found one...I pull into a parking space all haphazard-like and we go in. At first I wanted Ingrid to go do the deed, but there are 31 freakin flavors and how's a girl supposed to know what I like...
Ok, so things are going smoothly, the floor in the place has traction to there is no slippage. I get my Sundae and ask Ingrid to pay for it with my money while I go outside to sit (my 7 minutes were up). She came out with the goods and handed it to me. I make my way to the car and open the door when at the same time the sundae went flying. Some of the remnants landed on my pants and some on my shoe, which I tried to recover with my finger...the rest of it rolled underneath the car. I thought, Fuck! I couldn't find it because it was under the car hiding from me. As I pulled out I asked Ingrid to look for it and she found it. I asked her if it was salvageable. She said she thought it would be okay....sometimes you have to be careful with Ingrid because she tends to have an iron stomach and can eat week old chow mein and not get sick. Not so with Fatty...I can't even eat day-old chow mein without being ill. Anyway, desperate for that fucking sundae, I took her word for it and away we went with delapidated sundae in hand.
That's all folks!