Car talk.

I have to carpool with a co-worker to an offsite meeting today. As we were talking about driving arrangements, I asked her if she wanted to drive. She was all like, “I don’t know. My car is REALLY SMALL. Like knees-in-the-dashboard small. When I ride with my dad or even my boyfriend, we are like on top of each other practically.”

OK bitch. Code breakin’ time. What you’re really trying to say is that I AM TOO FAT FOR YOUR PIECE-OF-SHIT SATURN. Jesus. I may be fat, but I’m not a goddamned circus freak. I FIT in cars already.

Couldn’t she have said that her transmission is on the fritz, or that the oil is leaking? Christ. Sure, I’ll drive. But I can tell you right now that I’m pushing the passenger seat all the way to the dashboard, so that Little Miss Honesty is in the birthing postion for the entire two-hour ride. Speed bumps take on a whole new dimension when your snootch is pressed up against the frosty windshield like a suction-cup Garfield.

Let’s make a deal, lady. You don’t get all up in my bizness about my weight, and I’ll refrain from singing the theme from “Yentl” when you and your Streisandesque schnoz enter the room.

6 thoughts on “Car talk.”

  1. I shall never look at Garfield the same way again… And I would think that humming a Streisand tune doesn’t count. Hum away whenever she’s in the room.

  2. Untitled, the post was really funny (snootch to the frosty windshield, indeed!) but there’s also alot of pain going on there (if I’m wrong here, go ahead and yell “fuck you, you fucking fucker!!” to you monitor right now). I am not in your office, but are you sure that’s what she meant? I’ve had vehicles that for one reason or another (smallness counts here) I was embarrassed to have people in, esp. for two hours. I’ve also made up lame excuses because I’m self-conscious about driving in front of certain people (um, people with ‘a way with words’ being some)….., I am notorious for getting lost even just going around the block (a secret that I don’t just blurt out to anyone because I am ashamed of it and try to a) either laugh it off or b) hide it at all & any cost. My husband rags on me about it endlessly so I’ve developed kinda a phobia about it). I also have some phobias about going to new places because ‘different’ traffic patterns freak me out (oh yeah, I soooo normal!) and I have a degree of ADD that makes me worry about doing the wrong thing.
    Ooooookay, what I’m pussy-footing around here is that you may be a wee bit hyper-sensitive right now…., um, you’re in the middle of starving your body & psyche to please the world aren’t you? And the public weighing in is just another mortifying judgement just like the ones you endured growing up (why, yes, I DO come from that neighborhood, howevah did you know, dahlink?). You might even be a tiny bit crabby right now–withdrawal from the usual comforts, am I right?
    So please don’t dump on yourself by what someone “might” be thinking, okay? I think you’re adorable and you are so incredibly fucking fortunate that your husband loves you the way you are, for who you are. I’ve been with my husband for close to 30 years and I don’t think I’ve ever had that luxury.
    Mine has recently started dieting for the first time in his life, and since the weight is coming off of him pretty easily, he doesn’t see why I can’t do the same thing and of course, he is giving me ALL kinds of HELPFUL advice–calling many times during the day to give me insights, tell me what he is eating or more importantly NOT eating, blah, fucking, blah, he’s turned into a FUCKING TEENAGE GIRL, for Christs’ sake!
    Anyway, untitled, I think you’re just lovely, so fuck everyone else!

  3. I think I just forced coffee out of my nose…….

    snootch on a frosty windshield……the visual has made my day!!!!

  4. I’m just shocked you didn’t say that you couldn’t take your car because when people fart on the passenger side you can smell it on the driver’s side and THAT’s a big problem.

  5. notaclue — i think you’re spot-on. less chocolate and more lettuce can make a girl grumpy. i felt better after i vented here. the power of writing. 🙂

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