Greetings! I Notice You’re Fat!

There’s a little charity thrift store around the corner from my office, staffed by nice Jewish senior-citizen volunteers. Usually when I stop in there, which isn’t often, someone offers help, then leaves me alone, which is just as it should be. Sometimes I’m even ignored, which is fine, except for the times I’m looking to donate items.

I generally don’t want overly helpful service in a regular store, and that’s even more the case in a thrift store. I come to browse, or to look for a particular kind of item and then to browse. Today I stopped in to see if they had any light hand weights that I could use in my office, so I could take small steps toward getting in shape during my spare workday moments rather than sitting on my ass, checking Facebook.

Today, one of the volunteers was a cheery yet overly helpful saleswoman. I was looking at some hand-crocheted blankets that were offered for under $10 when the lady placed a pair of fuzzy-trimmed boots on a chair nearby and pointed them out to me. She was being quite — helpful — with other customers too. Then she turned back to me.

“We have some nice tops, and they’re large,” she said in an enthusiastic tone, pointing them out to me. “Here are the dresses, and these are all laaarrrge.”

Um, did I mention that I didn’t ask for help in this store?

Thanks, lady, for letting me know you noticed my fatness! Never mind I may be shopping for my daughter or husband (I browsed for them, too), or that I may be here hoping to pick up a deal on some workout equipment (yep, that’s one way fat people get lean). It’s reassuring to know you saw me and thought, “Laaaaaaarge.”

I thought of leaving right then, knowing that whenever I looked at any article of clothing I might purchase, I would remember the saleslady saying, “laaaaarge.”

I stayed, though, and found a pretty blouse for $4.95 that probably was at least 10 times that amount new. It’s nice, and laaaaaarge.