Dear Girls Making Fun Of Me In The Dollar Tree,
You kept following me through the isles while I was looking at useless shit I probably didn’t need and incessantly kept making commentary loud enough for me to hear and laughing until you started to cry.
“WHAT IS SHE WEARING?!”
“WHO WALKS OUT THE HOUSE LIKE THAT?”
Then you kept sticking your 14 probably 15 year old flat stomachs out to imitate my “gut” saying things like I looked pregnant.
I observed that you were buying groceries with what I assumed to be your mother, whom for the record was far far more overweight than I am. But you needed Dollar Tree more than I did clearly to sustain yourselves. But that’s beside the point, I don’t judge a good deal. A box of granola bars for a dollar? Damn, I would cop too.
Regardless, you continued to laugh and point and make fun of me for 20 minutes straight, all the way through me checking out my items, and until I pulled out of the parking lot.
Now I’m left sitting here in my car, thinking about how I specifically told my mother just before I left that I was concerned about if I looked okay. She loved my outfit, her boyfriend loved the outfit, the old lady in the parking lot loved the outfit, and the cashier loved it so much she said “let’s be friends!” And gave me her personal number.
So here’s a conjunctive list as to why I feel very very sorry for you.
1. I heard you talking in an isle over previously before you saw me about how you have to find boys with girls to date because they don’t want to date you unless you’re the side chick. I personally found my boyfriend who is incredibly respectful, intelligent and wildly gorgeous because I have the means to get a guy like that since I am a pretty (although fat) gorgeous woman with a pretty amazing amazing personality to match. A flat tummy won’t get you everywhere in life baby. I’m a published author who can play instruments and create poetry with a beautiful family who lives in a lovely home with a plethora of friends both in and out of college and my nearly full time job. Where are you again? Middle school? Which leads to my next point.
2. You’re probably still in late middle school or early high school and you are probably incredibly insecure in yourself to project that onto others. But that’s okay, because as someone who is studying double majors on criminal justice and human services, I’m well aware that until you learn to be confident enough to uplift the women around you, you will forever be compensating by making fun of those around you. And frankly that’s sad.
And lastly, 3. You have yet to realize how real and brutal the world actually is. Hostility and bitterness will get you NO WHERE good but your ass beat. You’re lucky I have enough class to say “have a blessed day.” And put my sunglasses on and drive off. But another big girl like me wont. And you will be sat on top of and crushed accordingly while your little legs squirm like a smashed spider. But that’s beside the point.
Want to know a secret? I know I’m a big girl. I’m a reeeeally big girl. But what you have yet to learn is that fat is not synonymous with disgusting. Want to know what is synonymous with disgusting? Being a bully.
And I look fucking fabulous.
I’m fat, fabulous and fashionable. Talk about a triple threat right?
So yeah. Fuck you.