I’m not a chatty person, particularly first thing in the morning. PADS is full of people who enjoy hearing their own voices. I hear their stories, over and over (and over) again — that makes me even more quiet, because I don’t want to be “that fat woman who tells the same story, over and over again.”
So, when I can sit by a person who has a good sense of humor, I gravitate there… and listen more than I speak. One of the men who I do that with is Ed (aka Mr. Spaghetti — same name as my nephew). I remember when I first got to PADS, Ed spent a lot of time hanging out with a very sarcastic, humorous (if also paranoid and a bit scary) guy… and Ed gave as good as he got. He reminds me of some of my family, particularly my paternal grandma’s brothers and sisters… sarcastic humor was a requirement.
On Tuesday morning at Itasca Presbyterian Church, I sat near Ed and and Alan, occasionally putting in my two cents, but mostly listening/being quiet. Itasca is one of the sites where I have only eaten dinner a single time, because the tables are smashed together so tightly, a fat person like me causes problems in getting around. Things are a little better in the morning, since some of the people leave early for work or reasons of their own.
After he finished his breakfast, Ed got up and walked over to throw out his trash, and I heard Tom Z say, “Having breakfast with your girlfriend?” is a teasy, sing-songy way.
Well, fuck. I need this shit.
When I say I’m fat, I’m not being cutesy, and whining about 20 or 30 pounds. I’m morbidly obese. I am realistic, and I am NOT looking for a boyfriend in PADS, because that would be the stupidest thing I could do. Some guy last night suggested that he be my boyfriend, before he started chuckling… it was all ready pretty clear he was looking for someone to con a few rides out of.
Anyway, back to Tom Z, who makes me look — well, not skinny, but at least normal. He is humongous. He wears a huge polo shirt that hangs low — but not low enough to cover his belly, which hangs a foot over the waistline of his pants. Puking a bit now, because I really, really don’t wan’t to think about that waistline.
As an extremely fat woman, I have to ask: How can ANYONE with any sense of pride walk around with their (overweight, not fit or pregnant) stomach hanging out between their slacks and their shirt? Is he pretending his waist is 36 inches smaller than it actually is?
I just stayed focused on my plate after the girlfriend game, trying not to get any more upset about it… and then Tom Z turned his attention to the weather woman on the tv, and proceeded… in the basement of the Presbyterian church that had fed and housed him, to discuss the woman’s @ss and t|ts. Using each word several times.
I am extremely close to filing a grievance with PADS about this. In a world where I get woken up with “This motherf*cker threw coffee on me!!” and I spent forty-five minutes trying to help a mom keep her 27 year old girl conscious, after she had taken heaven knows how many Xanax, while I encouraged her to let me get help, and then helped her wait for the paramedics… There are some things that shouldn’t be allowed — and being required to listen to a disgusting creep belittle women is one of those things.