Weight Watching Wenches

Last night my fat friend asked to come to weight watchers with her for support. I assumed she wanted me to support her weight , as lately walking around appears to be a struggle for her. So I politely declined, diplomatically explaining that it would just be too upsetting to the other women to see a vision of my proportions there. Considering they were probably already very low on self esteem ,I didn't want to be the one to stick the boot in. The demanding cow, sniffled on about how she couldn't go alone and since she hadn't left the couch and removed her gigantic paw from her family packs of crisps since her boyfriend had dumped her, I caved and decided to go on yet another charity mission. She was becoming an embarrassment.Somebody had to do something. And that somebody was me.



I felt distinctively uncomfortable as I followed the wobbling whale into Weight Watchers. I swear that from the minute I entered the room, I received threatening looks from every woman there. I can only attribute this to jealously of my catwalk model proportions. I refrained from having a go at them as it was just too easy to start name calling. I also pitied their desperate situations.



One poor pudding pants had dragged along her boyfriend who looked particularly out of place as he also was quite petite like myself, which somehow made it all the more wrong. I gave him the nod upon seeing him. And rolled my eyes behind my mates back, just so that if it wasn't blatantly clear enough by my physique, I also had been put up to coming there by a fatty. His girlfriend eyed me up suspiciously. She then quickly started talking animatedly at him, throwing her head back laughing like a jolly jumbo, possibly to display what a happy couple they were. She wasn't fooling anyone.It must have been so difficult for her to see her man desiring a woman as exemplary as myself. If I could change things I would; I don't want to live in a world where where I get eye-balled by heifers and desired by their bizarre companions. That would be a LIVING HELL, but theres only so much I can do. I'm just one woman.



The session started with a weigh in. It was unfathomable how much some of them weighed in at. I couldn't help but remark to one lady that she was in fact 4 times my weight. I mean that's obese she should be going into hospital not a meeting in her parish hall. The meeting continued with a rather mortifying get it off your chest chat. They gave out stickers to women who lost a few pounds etc, which was all very degrading. They all feigned happiness for the lucky sticker holders, but I could tell they secretly wanted to kill them perhaps by cannibalism. The best part of the meeting was when they talked about food, what they craved, how the caved etc. One particular woman lived up to the harsh stereotype that fat people are all lazy and stupid.



"I was a bit low last week as a suffer from depression", she started, with an excuse ! " and I went to the chinese" . "Ohhhhhhhhhh" I remarked trying to get the others to join in, alas it was to no avail. Which is a shame as ridiculing these types is sometimes the only way to help them. She nervously babbled on about eating nearly everything on the menu and then falling into a self indulgent pit of depression which in turn was the reason she never bothered her fat arse to do any of the exercise she was assigned to do. Which I must note was only a 20 minute walk PER DAY. I mean for crying out loud.



I suffer from depression also yet I'm not the size of a house. My work as a chief executive of a notable company has me firing dullards on a daily basis. This is at times is distressing, but you don't see me eating every single feeling that runs through my perfectly sculptured body.



After the rather entertaining ordeal was over. I decided I could do a much better job myself at getting the obese epidemic under control. These people got themselves in this mess, they should be disciplined not hugged and told it's alright for having an off day. They should be publicly berated. So with that I decided to offer to talk to the morons next week. Alison, my mate ,said they wouldn't to hear from a woman who's never been overweight. "Ridiculous" , I scoffed. "Maybe if they had an archetype like me to look up to they might finally whip themselves into shape."



Alison then declared I was making a scene and waddled out the door. I mean some people.The lengths I've gone to help that down -and-out who if I can speak frankly is a fat cow. She can forget about calling moi when she's suicidal and alone. Because let's be honest she probably wont find another boyfriend. I'm at my wits end with her. Eventually I will probably go back to her at some point but that's only because I have the patience and heart of a saint.