The lady in front of me in the Starbucks like this morning wasn’t too pleased when asked if she wanted to add food to her drink order. Made a couple comments about how she’s watching her weight and whatnot.
She then turned around–a pivot turn, pretty much–and was directly facing me. What did she say? ”This skinny thing might want some food, though.”
And it did not end there. ”I bet you can eat whatever you want. Whatever you want. I used to be that way, too, but then it caught up to me. And someday it will catch up with you.”
Oh. Wow. Um, okay.
I felt so uncomfortable, which takes a lot. And part of me wanted to make her uncomfortable, too. Pretend I was recovering from an eating disorder. Or point out that the weight never caught up to my mother. Or even just say something benign (and entirely truthful) like “oh, the perks of eating well and working out regularly.”
Took the high road, though. An awkward smile. And a lot of thoughts–which I kept to myself, of course–about how unfortunate it is that lady couldn’t keep her own thoughts to herself. Or, at least, if she needed to share her thoughts, how unfortunate it was she couldn’t share positive, uplifting ones!
