This morning the dog decided one trip outside was not enough. Notwithstanding the fact that I had to get ready for work, the dog started wiggling like a worm in the rain when I went to go upstairs to take a shower. So i relented and put on my sandals and walked him back down the block.
There’s a park at the end of our block, which is really nice, I think. There’s baseball fields and a disc golf (hippies) course and it’s just a nice place. Well I’m walking the dog slowly hoping that he’ll do what he needs to and we can go back. As I approach the corner I see two figures sitting on the bleachers facing the other direction towards the first baseball diamond. I don’t think much of it other than that I shouldn’t go to close because my hair is a mess and I wasn’t wearing a bra. (Get over it–it’s just my block.)
As the dog turns and turns to find the proper place to utilize as a toilet the figures start yelling at someone. Something about “Hey there sweetie…” or whatnot. I pay little attention and start to walk away.
“Come back baby…don’t walk away.”
“Hey there blimpo.”
Aw, hell. Fat hecklers. For the record, I haven’t had a fat joke at my expense not made by myself in years. So long, in fact, that this one took a minute to sink in that it was even directed at me.
I keep walking. I’m walking about five miles an hour but thinking about five hundred. Damn this no bra and messy hair! I really had a piece of my mind to give them and I wasn’t about to go over there like this. But I didn’t want them to think I was ignoring them in shame either. I’m a fat chick, damn it and I’m beautiful. The term “blimpo” doesn’t capture my curves in a very flattering light.
My mind was racing as I unhooked the leash and got in the shower. All I could think of was insulting their brain size (which was probably true) and their penis size (which was probably truer). I thought to myself that I hope they’re still on the bleachers when I leave for work because I’ll be damned if I let this go unsaid. I rushed about to get ready, leaving with my hair fully wet just to try and catch them.
I’d roll down the window….
“Hey there champs. I see you’re being really productive today. I just wanted to let you know that your comments didn’t fall on deaf ears. I appreciate you noticing my size. I, too, have noticed yours…”
They’d stare in amazement.
“It’s size extra small–brains and genetalia.”
“I hope that you have a great, unproductive and shameful day.” I’d pause. “And just so you know? This fat ass is smart, successful and beautiful. You should be so lucky.”
In other words, “The jerk store called…they’re running out of you!”
But of course, as many things go, I wasn’t able to zing them back. They were gone when I left. Probably off to be the best of society somewhere else.
I’m over the fat jokes. Honestly, I know I’m fat and I’m fine with it–you don’t need to point it out in some sort of derogatory but pseudo-seductive way. But more importantly, if you do, stick around until I’m ready to give you a piece of my mind. The little girl that was me so many years ago deserves someone sticking up for her.
And this fat ass fits the bill perfectly.