Alternatives
February 28, 2009
The other day, I was sent down to Walmart to pick up some lunch for the office. They are always very particular about what I bring back, writing me down the same detailed instructions every time they send me. I am always to get a pound or so of hot wings, a pound or so of General Tso’s Chicken, six to eight chicken tenders, and a quart of homestyle potato salad – not mustard, God help you if there’s mustard in it!
On the day in question, I was kind of dragging, so I added a twenty oz. bottle of Mountain Dew to the itinerary in the hopes that a jolt of caffeine would pick me up a bit. This was, I feel, a fateful choice.
Y’see, I think it was this twenty oz. beverage that planted the idea in the vapid checkout lady’s mind. After all, a twenty oz. bottle is clearly an individual serving, so perhaps I was one of those on-the-go types who’d just stopped in to grab a quick lunch from the deli counter? As she continued ringing up the various containers of food, though, she began to realize that this was really more food than was strictly appropriate for one person to eat by themselves. This realization occurred to her at approximately the same time as her “small talk” circuits kicked in.
“Getting enough to share?” she asked, with just a little bit more of a genuine interrogatory inflection than I was comfortable hearing, as though she wasn’t entirely sure that I was going to share my five pounds of food with anyone. Like most fat people, I am annoyed when others assume me capable of ridiculous feats of gluttony – my particular caliber of obesity is attained by a very modest amount of overeating, combined with apallingly bad nutritional choices and a sedentary lifestyle, and shame on you for not knowing that, less-obese person!
A series of possible responses flashed through my head, many of them quite appealing to me. In the event, I could only choose one, but the magic of the internet allows me to live out the others here with both of my readers.
Option the first, crass and vengeful
“Getting enough to share?” I screeched back at the clerk in an insulting caricature of her voice while furiously shaking the bottle of soda she’d just handed me. Pointing it in her general direction, I twisted off the cap…
Option the second, understated sarcasm/dishonesty
“Actually, I’m trying to bulk up – they’re starting up a sumo team over at CSU, and I’m trying to make junior heavyweight.
(for extra vindictiveness, add “y’know, they might be starting up a lady’s team, too – you would be perfect!)
Option the third, painfully awkward
“No,” I said defensively, meeting the checkout lady’s gaze with my own hurt expression.
(works better yet if you can make your eyes tear up on cue)
Option the fourth, the old stand-by
“¿Que?” I replied, holding out my credit card anxiously, as though maybe she’d asked for it. “No voy tener mas anyos, ahora, porque los angeles quieren llevar mis zapatos rojos.”
Option the fifth, the boring one
“Yeah, I’m bringing lunch back to the guys at the office.”
Option the sixth, the sudden disturbing twist
“Yeah, I’m bringing lunch back to the guys at the office. Oh, hell, I meant to get some rat poison, too.” Stand indecisively for a moment, then “Well, go ahead and ring this stuff up, I should probably pay cash for that anyway so it’s not on the receipt…”
