Random Fat Embarrasing Moment- #356

One spring day, I decided that I needed to go shopping. As a large woman, I hated to shop. Absolutely hated it. (Have you ever see the X-large section? Ug-lee!) Plus, the idea of going into a dressing room gives me vertigo. But, here I am, I decide I'm sick of everything I own. So, I put on some sensible shoes, and head towards the mall.
While there, there are just a few shops that I would dare enter. There are only a few shops that even carry sizes made for me. So, I'm at the local "fat girl store" wandering through the piles. Everything is just....."Ugh". As I'm headed out the door, I notice a pile of t-shirts by the door. They are all stretchy and pastel colors. Now, I never ever wear anything but deep blues and blacks. That's what I'm comfortable in. That's what enables me to blend into the environment. My own special camouflage. Anyways, these shirts are all yellow-y, pink, teal, and lavender. I totally do not have anything like this. So I think to myself, "well, maybe I'm missing something? Maybe it's time for a change?" I pick up the lavender tee and ring it up.
The next weekend, its Easter weekend. In my family, we all forced to gather together, and pretend to like each other. I wear my new lavender shirt, secretly congratulating myself for taking such risks. I'm a few Mimosa's in, when my sweet, sweet nephew says to me, "Nina, yo luk big aster egh." (<------That would translate into: Nina (nickname for godmother) you look like a big EASTER EGG!" ) He actually shouted this! At that very moment, everyone had miraculously just stopped talking. You could hear a pin drop. All eyes turned to me, then down at my lavender shirt. My face turned red and hot. I manage a tiny smile for my nephew, because of course I didn't want to hurt his feelings.
I just swallowed mine.
I glanced at Mr. Hummingbird, and he looked away. I think that part hurt the most.
I was embarrassed for him.
I was embarrassed for me.
Suddenly, everyone started talking again, ignoring the elephant in the room.
Everyone but me.


I skipped dinner that night. (Acting like I was too busy in the kitchen.) And I avoided eye contact with everyone.
It really sucked.

I gave that shirt away to Goodwill, the very next week.

Pssssttttt......

My new blog is up.

Yes.....Yes I Did.

I forgot my flip flops at home. I didn't realize this until I was at the gym, undressed, and ready to shower.
Sigh.
I stink. I really really need a shower. I hate sitting in my car when I stink. (I'm worried that my fabric car seats will absorb the smell, and make it virtually impossible for me to remove from my car.) I've tried putting my gym towel over the seat before I sit, but after my workout, that towel is not in much better shape than my clothes.
What to do? What to do?
I look around. It's pretty empty in there. I head to the bathroom.
A few quarters later, I return with two maxi pads (actually, they are more like bricks.) from the vending machine. Back at my locker, I remove the adhesive backing, and stick them on the bottom of my bare feet.

Yes. I really did.

I waddle over to the showers. My intent was to remove them before showering, but then I started thinking of all the Super Fungus that maybe in there. I change my mind, and walk into the shower with the brick shoes.

They absorbed an astounding amount of water.

I squish back to the locker, leaving wet puddle prints all over the place. (They even "squeak" from so much water) I'm drying off as quick as I can. Just as I'm about to get dress........Tyrese's girlfriend walks in.

She stares at me.

I stare at her.

She smiles, then walks to the next row of lockers. (Just about as far away from me as she can get.)

I'm sure I'm going to hear about this soon.

A Boot to the Head

"Kick me in the head."

Pardon me?

"Kick me hard, in the head" Tyrese is hiding behind a kickboxing dummy. I'm seriously tempted to kick the wrong dummy in the head. I will myself not to do anything stupid.
I gracefully raise my leg up, twisting it slightly (like they do in the Jackie Chan movies) and make contact with the head.

Okay. That actually didn't happen.

What actually happened was that I raised my leg up, Karate Kid style. As I raised it higher than my hips, I lost my balance. (I didn't have my arms out, crane-like. I fear that this was my deadly mistake.) I ended up on the floor, on my back, wondering why the ceiling tiles were moving. Tyrese just stares at me. I stay on the floor, quietly doing an inventory of all my body parts. (Can I wiggle my toes? Check. Can I feel my knees? Check. Can I flex my butt cheeks? Check.)

"Seriously girl? That's all ya got? I hope not, because that was just sad."

I continue with my inventory. (Can I wiggle my fingers? Check. Can I blink my eyes? Check.)

"Okay, now you're just embarrassing me. Git up."

I slowly start to get up. (I was done with my inventory anyways. Sheesh.) He hides behind the dummy again, and tells me to kick him again. I kick the dummy in the "shin". The effort makes me take a step back.

"I stand corrected. THAT was sad."

He excuses himself, and comes back with a handful of stuff. He hands me some boxing gloves. He hides behind the dummy, and instructs me to hit the dummy in the head. I take a punch, and it nearly knocks him down.

"That's what I'm talkin about!!"

"I went to public school."

He laughs. I keep punching him for a while. I'm enjoying it somewhat, but I keep thinking about how filthy the gloves may be. (I'm not exactly a germaphobe but I think about things like this.) How many hands may have sweated in them before me? How many gym bags that they might have been tossed in, specifically next to the jock straps? Yuck. Eventually, I'm sweating, and breathing hard. He picks up some pads, and tells me to kick them. He holds them down low, around knee level. I start to kick them. My shoe flies off. He tells me to turn my waist sideways, making my feet parallel to the ground. I slowly get comfortable with this, and keep kicking him. He's slowly moving the pads up, so eventually they are shoulder high. Each kick gets harder to land. The entire time, he's taunting me.

"Harder! Higher!"

"You hit like a girl!"

"My grammy hits harder than you!"

"Come on Rocky!"

I'm huffing and puffing. My legs ache. I want to stop, but I know that he won't let me. I ignore his taunting, concentrating instead on making deliberate half-ass punches. I'm punching, and he's taunting.

"Come on. Let's get rid of those bingo arms!"

The sting was noticed by everyone. I've never had anyone talk to me like that before, and it stung. It also lites a fire in my belly. I start throwing punches and kicks like a crazy person. I'm sweating and drooling. My hair is flying everywhere. My nose has started to run. (I'm wiping it on the back of the germy gloves.) I'm still kicking and punching.

"Okay, five more!"

"Three more!"

"Okay, last one!"

Tyrese straightens up, and lets go of the dummy. He glances over at the wall clock. As he does this, I throw one last punch. It makes him take a step back.

"Oh, sorry."

He gives me the stank eye.

I turn around, and start removing the germy, snot filled gloves, smiling to myself. I don't even flinch when Tyrese tells me to do 300 bicycles.