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I felt like an ex smoker today
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You know how people who were one thing, and then reformed themselves all of a sudden become fanatical about that thing they used to be? Ex smokers are one of the best examples, policing the ranks of those who continue to smoke, evangelizing them to save them from that particular sin. They are especially known for their zeal. I sort of felt that way today.
After my post op check up (which went very well), I drove up to visit my parents and help my Dad with a few chores around the house. While we were working, my Mom declared that we needed to go to the store to get some things she had been wanting for a while. Now "we" translates and "Dad and I". As for the store, she did not care, as long as it had everything she wanted on her list. It was that discussion that led to the circumstances where I found myself a short while later.
We wound up in the mecca for fat people. There were more fat people there than at the Golden Corral on 10% off day. Yes. I am talking about Walmart. I hate going to Walmart. I don't like having to walk for what seems like miles just to discover they really don't have what I want. What's even worse sometimes IS finding what I want. Then I have to stand in line to check out - a line that stretches into the hazy distance like people lined up waiting for Judgment Day. And today was even worse. We were at a Walmart in a popular vacation spot for people from a very large city whose initials are N.Y.C. So it was fat people with an attitude.
I also made the mistake of texting Mrs. LittleBill to tell her I was at Walmart, thinking she would at least sympathize. I received an LOL and a list of stuff to look for. So now I had two missions. We had to park so far away from the building that all we could see was the top, peeking over the horizon. I am pretty sure we were in a different zip code. The parking lot was solid with vehicles. In the distance I could see people dodging back and forth between the city drivers zooming around looking for the best spot. I said to Dad, "Maybe today isn't such a good day to try and go in there." He turned to me and said, "It's not worth my life to come home empty handed! We're going in!"
We eventually made it to the door. I grabbed a cart, and waded into the mêlée, calling out to Dad that we could split up and cover more territory more quickly. It was like a cross between bumper cars and the demolition derby. People were smacking into one another left and right, coming out of the ends of the aisles like they had been fired out of a cannon. Baleful glares and insincere apologies were exchanged with abandon. And in all of this, there was a huge number of human juggernauts, cruising through slowly, yet unstoppable. They drew my attention with fascination.
Like the ex smoker described above, I looked from person to person, thinking: "You need bariatric surgery. You need bariatric surgery. You REALLY need bariatric surgery! I can't believe I used to look like that! Did I really look like that!?! This place is a GOLD MINE for my surgeon!" It was actually kind of weird. On one hand, I felt something of a kinship with these people while on the other hand I was repulsed. I think a lot of the latter had to do with attitude though. I really get impatient with rude people.
In one sense it was something of an NSV for me. I am still fat, but I am not the land yacht I used to be, and to a degree, I felt a whole lot slimmer as I negotiated the killing fields of the retail environment. It was also something of a wake up call, to learn that I do not perceive myself in the same way that I used to. I am going to have to work on that one for a while. It kind of snuck up on me and grabbed me by the throat. But at least I made it out of there alive.