Life in the Fat Lane (2011)
“I put down the magazine I’d been pretending to read and stood up, all 180 pounds of me. “Yes.”
“I’m Karen DeBarge. Come on in.”
I didn’t want to “come on in.” I wanted to scream or spew obscenities or slap her skinny, patronizing face. I wanted to act like the horrible monster that I felt everyone saw when they looked at me.
But that would be crazy. Lara Ardeche was sweet and polite, a pageant winner everyone admired. And she did not weigh, dear God, 180 pounds.
So, clearly I really had turned ...into someone else, morphed into some hideous, fat monster-creature, full of sizzling rage.
I held the monster at bay and followed Karen DeBarge into her office.
She was in her forties, very thin, wearing a bright red suit with a conservative skirt that fell just below her knees. The ugly blouse she wore under her suit jacket had little cherries parading all over it. Her hair was sort of no-colored, and short. So were her nails. She was a bone-thin total stranger with no taste in clothing, and I was supposed to bare my soul to her, tell her the most intimate details of my fat, messed-up life.MoreLess
“I’m Karen DeBarge. Come on in.”
I didn’t want to “come on in.” I wanted to scream or spew obscenities or slap her skinny, patronizing face. I wanted to act like the horrible monster that I felt everyone saw when they looked at me.
But that would be crazy. Lara Ardeche was sweet and polite, a pageant winner everyone admired. And she did not weigh, dear God, 180 pounds.
So, clearly I really had turned ...into someone else, morphed into some hideous, fat monster-creature, full of sizzling rage.
I held the monster at bay and followed Karen DeBarge into her office.
She was in her forties, very thin, wearing a bright red suit with a conservative skirt that fell just below her knees. The ugly blouse she wore under her suit jacket had little cherries parading all over it. Her hair was sort of no-colored, and short. So were her nails. She was a bone-thin total stranger with no taste in clothing, and I was supposed to bare my soul to her, tell her the most intimate details of my fat, messed-up life.MoreLess
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