When will this war end? It feels like it’s been going on forever. Everywhere I go, I’m reminded of it. I can’t even go to Starbucks without it being thrown in my face. So there I was the other day, trying to get a cup of coffee, when this ongoing battle once again took center stage in my life: Jason vs. fat people. All I wanted was a simple cup of coffee – black. But first, I had to go through a wall of my arch rivals. Granted, there were only two of them, but their 300-pound bodies side-by-side created a barrier so impenetrable a scud missile couldn’t have gotten through.
Immediately, these hungry, hungry hippos starting giving me the stink eye. In clothes so tight – with seams magically holding together, baffling the most talented tailor – they proceed to place their orders. “I’ll have a super-grande white chocolate cappuccino. Better make it non-fat. I’m watching my figure.” (Well honey, you’re the only one. This extra large Starbucks Mega-store is way too small for me to step back far enough for my eyes to digest all of you at once.) Her friend then places the same order, makes the same comment and giggles, which cause various parts of her to jiggle for quite some time.
Finally! My turn at the register. I order a cup of coffee and slide over to the waiting area. There isn’t any room, of course, because its occupancy is being maxed out by two oversized people. I get my drink before them, shoot them my patented evil eyes and saunter out of Starbucks, causing them to rethink their calorie-laden cappuccinos. I hope they changed their orders to coffee – black. I did a long time ago.
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