After struggling to get my daughter and said parcels through the door, I get into the line... Uber door nazi, a very large and gelatinous mass of jiggly fat deposits, was in front of us, yappin' away on her cell... Still trying to balance boxes while holding onto the hand of an active and curious toddler at a post office? I do not recommend... Especially standing behind the ultimate in clueless, fat imbeciles from hell. I wanted to put the boxes up onto the counter, which this woman was blocking with her enormous ass. She's still yapping away... I said, "Excuse me!" about four times until she finally looked over at me. I gave her a smile and said, " I just want to put these boxes down on the counter if I could, thanks!" She rolled her eyes, turned back around and proceeded to flap her trap into her cell again.
So, again I attempted to be polite... "Hi! Excuse ME, but if you could kindly move over just a bit... I just want to put the boxes onto the counter. I'm not trying to cut in front of you or anything..."
To which her reply was, "Excuse me, but can't you see that I am on the phone?" and she whipped back around a second time and continued on her conversation, but added in, "Yeah, sorry... Some bitch behind me was asking me to move... Like there's anywhere to move! I'm standing in a line!"
Must... keep... mouth... shut.... smile... faltering....
Now mind you, there was plenty enough space for her to have moved forward about four or five feet, giving me plenty of space to sneak by and put the fucking packages down on the damn counter, with room to spare for her gigantic ass, gut, flabby arms, kankles, back rolls, multiple chins and fat flabby chunks that were hanging OVER the various items of tight clothing she managed to squish whatever she could fit into them leaving everything else hanging out for everyone else's enjoyment... (Do these people really look in the mirror and think, "Oh YEAH! I look DAMN good!"? It's wrong. Shamu needs to go back and rethink things because EEEYEW!)
<Sigh!> The next person was called up to the counter and she thundered along giving me room now to put the stupid packages on to the stinkin' counter. I got on the phone myself...
"Make a note for me to blog about the rude, fat COW standing in front of me right now, will you love? Make sure to remind me to do that today..."
She paused... Looked over. I gave her the sweetest little smile! And continued on with MY conversation...
"I asked her twice to skooch to put the boxes down on the counter. Apparently I'm a bitch for having done so..."
She looked like she was going to say something but I gave her the "Hold on a second, I'm busy!" finger, and said into my phone, "I would have asked her again, but I was afraid the enormous beast would have sat on me!" I gave her a once over and said, "And YUCK! You have got to see this outfit! Let me call you back!" I hung up and took a picture of her with the cell of her giving me a "WTF!" look. I was laughing and so was the guy standing behind me.
Apparently I'm not just a bitch, but a "fucking bitch"... At least that's what she called me when she hefted her bulky mass out.
I picked up my daughter who seemed completely unphased by the interaction or unaware that any interaction took place at all as she was amusing herself with a bag of acorns she had collected during our morning walk. <Sigh!>
I thought fat people were supposed to be jolly...
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