I think I did that thing, yesterday, of offering my seat to a "pregnant" woman who was actually just really fat. Oops.
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Ahahaha. I've lost count of how often people have asked me when it is due, I wouldn't worry too mcuh.
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I can do better than that, WE. When I went to my 25th high school reunion a few years ago, I said something that made me feel like crawling under the nearest table. An old schoolmate spotted me and began walking in my direction, arms outstretched. We hugged and as we separated, I looked down at her stomach and my mouth dropped open in pleasant surprise.
"Oh my gosh, Barbara, when are you due?"
"Marian, I'm not pregnant."
"Oh God. I. Am. So. Sorry."
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me, especially since I have my own weight issues. You would think your fellow fat woman might be a little more sensitive to such things.
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I think it's better to err on the side of offering help where it's not needed than not bothering at all. And as a fat chick, Wyatt, I can say with confidence: don't worry about it. (We generally know we're fat!)
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- Mar 2008
- 14186
- The Deep South of England
- JPS Lotus
- Shortcake ...no, Custard Cream! ...no, Jammie Dodger...
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So if we say confidently and in a clear, steady voice "Madam - I don't care whether you're fat or pregnant, I'm offering you my seat, as you must surely be glad to get all that weight off your poor, long-suffering legs" on a crowded bus or tube, then that makes it alright?
If so, then phew!
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I certainly do feel like shit whenever this happens to me, but I would never blame the person who made the honest mistake.
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I was in a pub garden a couple of summers ago, and there was a concert going on so it was very busy. A friend of ours asked a nearby table if they would make space on there bench for my pregnant wife to sit down on their bench.
When she sat down, the person who had made space complained that they'd moved for the pregnant lady and pointed to our fat friend who was still standing. When we explained they all left very soon and so we all got seats.
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I just saw a gorgeous, beautifully slim woman with a lovely neat little 4- or 5-month bump. I am glad it's not possible to actually die of envy.
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The worst I've had is when a couple of guys came up to us after a gig and thought I was Mrs Rhino's dad. Harsh but fair.
I must have done this sort of thing to other people on plenty of occasions, but my mind has buried them in that dark, remote place reserved for things which, when you remember them out of the blue, make you go "AAARGH FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!" out loud.
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Along the same lines, my ex used to work in a fancy women's clothing store. I came in to pick her up, and while she was getting ready to go, an older relative of one of her coworkers came in. I went, "oh, you must be Charlotte's mom". It turned out she was Charlotte's older sister.
It also turned out that she went in and got plastic surgery a couple of months later.
Oops.
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- Mar 2008
- 14186
- The Deep South of England
- JPS Lotus
- Shortcake ...no, Custard Cream! ...no, Jammie Dodger...
ill-advised Remarks
These are the kind of things that, when you think of them - as SSS once brilliantly pointed out - 'make you want to stand up if you're sitting down and sit down if you're standing up'. Raising of one's hands to one's head whilst doing so is optional, but often helpful too.
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When I was bartending, I went on a long rant to one of our regulars about yuppie parents giving their kids the same stupid yuppie-parent names, like fucking Amanda and fucking Ashleigh, and what did they do, just open the 'popular baby names' book and just give their kid whichever name was Number 1 on list, for fuck's sake. He just stared for a second and said "My daughter's name is Amanda." I sort of grinned and moseyed away.
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She who must be loved. I think it's nice. Although I think I prefer Miranda, she who must be admired.
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Reminds me of my halcyon summers of 1998 and 1999 in Manchester, working as a telephonist for the National Blood Service ... always 'funny' to call for someone to attend a transfusion appointment to be met with the news that they had died the previous day ... oops ...
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I await a Megan, falling in love with Brian Chips so she can become Megan Chips.
For some reason I find this far funnier than it deserves.
I think it's payback for the girl named Jo who wanted to meet someone called King and I thoght her utterly absurd.
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