Holly and the Hamburger

The other day I was at work just standing there like an idiot with my manager. No one had come in thus far and there was nothing to do, when this older woman that walks the mall for exercise decided to come in and talk to us.
Among other things, she told us her biography. She used to work for the Board of Education. She had a son and might have had another one if she would not have had an abortion. Luckily, she met her husband, a minister, who saved her from walking the sure path to Hell she was on who showed her that she could "work for the Lord." Now she has a Christian talk radio show and rents apartments in between dodging the po-pos who want to arrest her for soliciting because she preaches on the mall property and gives out free Bibles. 100 free Bibles a year to be exact.
I'm a sucker for a good story, so I was following her seemingly endless rambling until she told me that God had told her to come in and talk to me about losing weight because she witnessed me buying fast food for breakfast.
This annoyed me. Not as much as it should have because this happens to me often. At least twice a week I am approached by some amateur Richard Simmons who has a cousin who lost twenty pounds on the cabbage diet or a daughter who used to be "heavy" until she started drinking Slim Fast for all her meals, including the sensible dinner.
Not too long after my run in with Bible Lady I spoke to my friend Franny; my fabulous buddy that has a fabulous life who is living fabulously in New York. She told me that she is really excited about meeting up in New Orleans in February for Mardi Gras. It will be all of us girls together again for a kick-ass vacation.
Yet, when I think about my last vacation to New Orleans, I think about the wonderful fat intervention that my friends put together for me.
Under the impression that we were going to my friend Mike's apartment for gay and marry conversation, the evening quickly took a bad turn when my homies confronted me about my weight. I guess what bothered me most is that they had to gang up on me instead of coming to me individually. It also bothered me that I fled the bullshit that I was going through at home just to walk knee-deep into more bullshit.
I don't know if the point of the evening was to make me cry or what, but the whole thing was ridiculous, especially when I found out that they had called my other friends for advice and to attend. I had never been so hurt.
My run-in with Bible Chick has put this event on my end again. I think about how it could have been. How funny it would have been if when they were confronting me about my weight I acted like I didn't know what they were talking about as I took a quarter pounder with cheese out of my bra and licked the melted cheese off of the bun.
It also would have been a gas if while they were talking about my fat intake I fell to the floor and had a heart attack. Knock on wood, but that would have been priceless.
The whole thing was uncomfortable. All I could think of was those crack heads on A&E's "Intervention" who think that the cameramen are taking them on a drug run when they enter a room full of their family and friends who are equipped with "I love you" letters and stern faces.
Whatever. I just hope that next year's trip doesn't end up like my previous one. I don't think it will, but I will keep a quarter pounder on hand just in case.