Breaking the code

There are some things that go without saying.

  • Never ask a woman what she weighs (unless you’re a doctor, trainer or health professional)
  • Never ask a woman “of a certain age” what that age is
  • Never ask a woman if it’s that time of the month
  • Never ask a woman if she’s gained weight

Apparently, this needs to get added to the list:

  • Never ask a woman when she’s due

On Saturday, I had to swing by Target to pick up a few things before heading to an fair where I was selling some of my art. I quickly grabbed what I needed and headed to the checkout line (you know, after grabbing a venti soy latte from the Target Starbucks).

When I got to the checkout lane and placed my items on the conveyor belt, the cashier (who, mind you, I would estimate to be at least 50 lbs. heavier than me) asked me when I was due.

“I’m sorry, what?” I replied.

“When are you due?” she asked again.

Cue the stabby hate.

I looked at her, with a don’t-mess-with-me-bitch-or-I-will-cut-you look on my face. “I’m not pregnant,” I said, shaking my head as I swiped my debit card. Her eyes got wide and she clasped her hands over her mouth in horror.

The look on her face? Priceless.

The look on my face? Bitchy.

That look was enough to make her feel like shit for an entire century.

I don’t think this whole incident would have made me feel as bad as it did if it weren’t for the next thing she said.

“If it makes you feel any better, I get asked that question all the time,” she said.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

I ran to my car and started crying. And then I got mad that this made me so upset. I have been working SO hard to lose weight. In the past three weeks nearly a dozen people have asked me if I’ve lost weight, saying I look a lot thinner, especially in my waist. Truth is, I haven’t really lost weight recently… the weight has just redistributed itself. I have a more defined waist (and I think my chest is smaller), but it seems as though it all went to my gut. So I’ve been a bit self conscious about my lower abdomen, especially when I stand next to pregnant friends.

I just wish I could have gone back and told her off.

“Bitch, you just broke the fat girl code. We kicked you off the island. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. You are the weakest link. Goodbye.”