I believed people couldn't be blamed for their circumstances. That there would always be some factor I didn't know about - people I thought was lazy, might have ME, depression, or some other condition. Even with fat people I'd be lenient - deep into the Woods of Conditions I was well on my way to becoming an ally to the obese. It wasn't their fault, I thought. It could be genetics. Depression. Lousy upbringing. I didn't know any better. I must admit, I didn't really know any fat people well enough to know how fucked up their logic is.
So, I started a new BA at uni, and immediately got into this clique. We were a diverse bunch, kinda outsider-y, but in a good way. We all noticed this huge - and I mean huge - girl in our class, how alone she was and took pity on her. We included her in our group, and... boy. Wow.
She would eat all the time. I mean, literately all the time - and at the beginning of the year all our professors said we couldn't eat during class. Hammy don't care. Hammy gonna eat crisps during someone else's presentation. I had to tell her on a bunch of occasions that her food was noisy, and she'd keep eating more often than not, excusing herself by saying she missed breakfast. As if that was a valid excuse.
She was loud. So, very, very loud. In the cafeteria, she'd almost shout about her sexual encounters, her lack of friends, her stupid ex, her brother (whom she lived with, also a ham), medical conditions and everything else the rest of us would whisper. If we responded, her answers would be as loud as always, so we never told her anything worth discussing because we were nervous she'd repeat it. I became so bothered by being around her and her crackling bags of crisps that I started dreading having to deal with her - but I was always civilized. I used to feel bad for her, after all.
This one time, she told me - very candidly - that she didn't understand why she was so very, very fat. I asked if she worked out. Nope. Asked her if maybe she was eating unhealthy food. Nope, wasn't that either. Had to be something else. Perhaps something medical. Or perhaps genetic? Everyone in her family was fat, after all. This conversation was had over a salad dripping with thick, thick dressing.
I was at her apartment once, because me, her and two girls from the clique were going out drinking and we stopped by her place on our way downtown - and I shit you not, there was candy everywhere. Two big bowls of crisps on the coffee table, a bowl of sweets in the windowsill, and her refrigerator was filled with soda. Her cupboards were filled to the point of things falling out, by crisps, crackers - all kinds of shit.
I asked her: "Are you expecting guests?" and she looked at me as if I spoke another language.
I'm so glad she isn't in my class anymore. She dropped out because of medical condishuns, but up until then, she relied on us to complete her assignments. She didn't bother reading the syllabus, and we had to explain it to her. She clung to us like a big, fat tick and once she got her jaws in, none of us had the balls to cut her loose. Knowing her made me a shitlady.
I had to delete her from my Facebook because of the incessant CandyCrush spam. If that isn't ironic, I don't know what is.
Submitted February 06, 2015 at 05:10AM by Altamura http://ift.tt/1zdrNLg fatpeoplehate
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