Friday, February 03, 2006
Dear Sir,
I have a fat ass. I'm fully aware of my rotundness and the amount of space that I take when sitting on the train. While I've recently lost some weight and continue to lose weight, I still am larger than your average train rider. One might even say that I am large and in charge. Why is that you ask? Because I am big, I know I'm big, and I'm doing my damndest not to burden others with my size, especially on the train. It is for this reason that I strategically choose my seat on the train on my commute to and from work in the loop every day. You see, I am one of the lucky one's who lives near a far stop and works near a stop where hardly anyone gets on. I almost always get a seat on the train. This is the strategy that I follow, in order of preference:
- If there is a single seater row, take it.
- If there are no single seats available, always take a seat on the inside of a completely empty two seater, leaving the aisle free
- If the only completely empty two-seater left is the sideways seat nearest the door, take the seat farthest from the door and metal partition so that in the event that someone sits next to me, I have some room to scoot over.
- If there are no two seaters available, stand.
By following this strategy of chosing seats on the train, I leave the decision to sit with the fat girl up to someone else's discretion. I've found that a majority of the people who choose to sit with me are petite and as such are unbothered by my fat ass sitting next to them. My absolute refusal to foist myself upon anyone already seated is also highly efficient in decreasing the incidents of annoying anyone with my fat ass. Taking great pride in my plan, I thought that I had train riding down to an exact science. That is, until you came along. Little did I realize that my near perfect train sitting strategy had one tiny flaw which you so deftfully reavealed.
Sir, you too have a fat ass. Perhaps it hadn't occurred to you, or maybe you still picture yourself as the much smaller, younger man with more hair from your college days. Another possibility is that you have severe depth perception issues that have caused you to seek the care of an opthomologist. Regardless of the cause of your denial of the self-evident, the simple truth remains that you are a large man. Realize and embrace your stature! It's OK. As stated above, I'm fat too. I fully understand the fat person's plight in the world.
Congratulations, you have successfully joined the ranks of many fat people all over Chicago. That being said, I take it as my duty to inform you that due to the nature of reality, two bodies may not simultaneously occupy the same space. Similarly, two fatasses cannot sit in the same two seater on the train, especially in the sideways two seater with the metal partition nearest to the door. I can understand that you enjoy a challenge and would love to prove the nature of reality wrong. However, I would've deeply appreciated it if you had found another fat ass to take part in your experiment, preferably one who had given prior written consent.
Perhaps the scent of my tuna sandwich from lunch hadn't completely vanished from my breath with the sugar-free gum I had chewed in the afternoon, and you mistook me for a sardine. Also still full from your lunch of various batter dipped and fried seafood, you may have been feeling very sardine-like when you squeezed your fat ass into the seat next to me deciding that that was the time, and I was your gal for conducting the penultimate experiment and proving reality wrong. Much to my dismay and to that of the two sitting perpendicular to us, your flawlessly executed although painfully unproductive maneuver proved your hypothesis that one could indeed fit two fatasses into the two seater nearest the door dreadfully wrong. Instead of our two fat asses occupying a similar space, I had been squeezed partially onto the laps of the couple who were sitting perpendicular to us as well as having my leg wrenched into the support and grip pole. Although I am thankful for its exsistance, the two seater certainly needing the support with you trying to squeeze your fat ass into it next to mine, I discovered the next morning that the pole left a little bruisey reminder of your failed plight.
While understanding that your dreams had just been shattered, as your test subject, I could've done without your heavy breathing and sighs of annoyance, which only caused your biomass to take up more space and further served to prove you wrong. Additionally, post experiment, when you were desparately trying to release your mind from failure's strong grip by rummaging through your bag to pull out some sort of reading material, a code of ethics and best practices manual, to find out where, oh god where, could you have absolutely gone wrong to face such career suicide and demise, you could've shed some mercy upon me, your severely disappointed test subject, and refrained from consistently elbowing me in the side and placing your arms and biomass on top of mine. As can be expected, your genius was unfaltered and you still could not find anything in the manual to explain the failure of the experiment. Unfortunately this realization made you nervous and caused you to twitch, shake, and fidget nervously, sending me further off the seat with additional biomass jiggling upon me. Yet you still pressed forth into the manual, searching for answers you knew were not there, flipping page after page while still subconsciously yet physically still trying to make everything right.
I know that I have been fortunate. I usually take the brown home, but this evening I diverted my usual path home to take part in a container gardening class at whole foods which caused me to take the red train to howard and fall helplessly into your revolutionary scientific experiment as well as into your loving elbows and fat ass. I value and cherish every single moment that we spent together. I respect the way that you tore open my strategic train sitting plan so that I could further perfect it. I know you had my best interests in mind.
Thank you sir, I owe you a debt far greater than one could ever imagine. However, if you ever pull that bullshit again and try to squeeze your fatass in the small seat next to the one where I am already seated, I'm going to reach under your spare tire, between your globulous legs, grab onto your nutsac and rip your balls right off of your body. Mind your size, asshole, and learn to have some respect and common courtesy for those around you, especially the fat asses. I would love to write more, but it's time for lunch. I think we both know better than to keep a fatass from his or her food.
Yours truly,
Girl with fat ass
XOXO
I have a fat ass. I'm fully aware of my rotundness and the amount of space that I take when sitting on the train. While I've recently lost some weight and continue to lose weight, I still am larger than your average train rider. One might even say that I am large and in charge. Why is that you ask? Because I am big, I know I'm big, and I'm doing my damndest not to burden others with my size, especially on the train. It is for this reason that I strategically choose my seat on the train on my commute to and from work in the loop every day. You see, I am one of the lucky one's who lives near a far stop and works near a stop where hardly anyone gets on. I almost always get a seat on the train. This is the strategy that I follow, in order of preference:
- If there is a single seater row, take it.
- If there are no single seats available, always take a seat on the inside of a completely empty two seater, leaving the aisle free
- If the only completely empty two-seater left is the sideways seat nearest the door, take the seat farthest from the door and metal partition so that in the event that someone sits next to me, I have some room to scoot over.
- If there are no two seaters available, stand.
By following this strategy of chosing seats on the train, I leave the decision to sit with the fat girl up to someone else's discretion. I've found that a majority of the people who choose to sit with me are petite and as such are unbothered by my fat ass sitting next to them. My absolute refusal to foist myself upon anyone already seated is also highly efficient in decreasing the incidents of annoying anyone with my fat ass. Taking great pride in my plan, I thought that I had train riding down to an exact science. That is, until you came along. Little did I realize that my near perfect train sitting strategy had one tiny flaw which you so deftfully reavealed.
Sir, you too have a fat ass. Perhaps it hadn't occurred to you, or maybe you still picture yourself as the much smaller, younger man with more hair from your college days. Another possibility is that you have severe depth perception issues that have caused you to seek the care of an opthomologist. Regardless of the cause of your denial of the self-evident, the simple truth remains that you are a large man. Realize and embrace your stature! It's OK. As stated above, I'm fat too. I fully understand the fat person's plight in the world.
Congratulations, you have successfully joined the ranks of many fat people all over Chicago. That being said, I take it as my duty to inform you that due to the nature of reality, two bodies may not simultaneously occupy the same space. Similarly, two fatasses cannot sit in the same two seater on the train, especially in the sideways two seater with the metal partition nearest to the door. I can understand that you enjoy a challenge and would love to prove the nature of reality wrong. However, I would've deeply appreciated it if you had found another fat ass to take part in your experiment, preferably one who had given prior written consent.
Perhaps the scent of my tuna sandwich from lunch hadn't completely vanished from my breath with the sugar-free gum I had chewed in the afternoon, and you mistook me for a sardine. Also still full from your lunch of various batter dipped and fried seafood, you may have been feeling very sardine-like when you squeezed your fat ass into the seat next to me deciding that that was the time, and I was your gal for conducting the penultimate experiment and proving reality wrong. Much to my dismay and to that of the two sitting perpendicular to us, your flawlessly executed although painfully unproductive maneuver proved your hypothesis that one could indeed fit two fatasses into the two seater nearest the door dreadfully wrong. Instead of our two fat asses occupying a similar space, I had been squeezed partially onto the laps of the couple who were sitting perpendicular to us as well as having my leg wrenched into the support and grip pole. Although I am thankful for its exsistance, the two seater certainly needing the support with you trying to squeeze your fat ass into it next to mine, I discovered the next morning that the pole left a little bruisey reminder of your failed plight.
While understanding that your dreams had just been shattered, as your test subject, I could've done without your heavy breathing and sighs of annoyance, which only caused your biomass to take up more space and further served to prove you wrong. Additionally, post experiment, when you were desparately trying to release your mind from failure's strong grip by rummaging through your bag to pull out some sort of reading material, a code of ethics and best practices manual, to find out where, oh god where, could you have absolutely gone wrong to face such career suicide and demise, you could've shed some mercy upon me, your severely disappointed test subject, and refrained from consistently elbowing me in the side and placing your arms and biomass on top of mine. As can be expected, your genius was unfaltered and you still could not find anything in the manual to explain the failure of the experiment. Unfortunately this realization made you nervous and caused you to twitch, shake, and fidget nervously, sending me further off the seat with additional biomass jiggling upon me. Yet you still pressed forth into the manual, searching for answers you knew were not there, flipping page after page while still subconsciously yet physically still trying to make everything right.
I know that I have been fortunate. I usually take the brown home, but this evening I diverted my usual path home to take part in a container gardening class at whole foods which caused me to take the red train to howard and fall helplessly into your revolutionary scientific experiment as well as into your loving elbows and fat ass. I value and cherish every single moment that we spent together. I respect the way that you tore open my strategic train sitting plan so that I could further perfect it. I know you had my best interests in mind.
Thank you sir, I owe you a debt far greater than one could ever imagine. However, if you ever pull that bullshit again and try to squeeze your fatass in the small seat next to the one where I am already seated, I'm going to reach under your spare tire, between your globulous legs, grab onto your nutsac and rip your balls right off of your body. Mind your size, asshole, and learn to have some respect and common courtesy for those around you, especially the fat asses. I would love to write more, but it's time for lunch. I think we both know better than to keep a fatass from his or her food.
Yours truly,
Girl with fat ass
XOXO
