12 November 2008

I'm Gonna Choke a Bitch

Call me Wayne Brady and stand back because I am about to come unglued. Unhinged. Undone.

I'm hoping everyone who has to share workspace - and anyone who is overweight - will appreciate the magnitude of this situation.

So here at the old forced labor camp (aka the marketing department of a really good company)we're all somewhat overweight. It's the stress. Not the donuts, not the endless free lunches from Chili's, it's The Stress. Cortisol is causing our collective weight to rise - sharply.

The range of overweighted-ness ranges from "could drop a few pounds" to "clinically obese."

Luckily - knock wood, cross fingers ::thew, thew:: - I am way closer to the "need to lose a few" than "is that a man or a woman?"

And so our benevolent employer offered to pay half the fee for us to join Weight Watchers. A group leader comes by the office every Tuesday, weighs us, gives us a pep talk, reminds us to avoid donuts like they are plague-carrying rats and sends us on our merry way with recipes for Celery Surprise. Yeay!

Side note: I did lose two pounds last week. The first week. Don't want to get crazy and set the bar too high - I'll take two pounds.

Got back to my shared office after weigh-in yesterday only to find (actually, I didn't find her because she sits on the other side of a seven-foot partition running the length of the room) my bunkmate eating what could only have been - judging by the aroma - a big, ol' bacon, cheddar cheese burger with fries, onion rings, mashed potatoes and a side of pot roast with gravy.

DAMN, woman! Do you know there are people trying to be good over here? Can't you take all that saturated fat to one of the half dozen break rooms in this building? Wouldn't you like to watch CNN - or, more likely, Andy Griffith - with your lunch?

So I hollered over the partition: "Bunky, You. Are. Killing. Me."

And she giggled.

Oh, she knew what she was doing. You see, she outweighs me by at least 50 pounds - she is corn fed - and has absolutely no interest in slimming down. And I think she's jealous of my bigger-than-it-should-be-but-still-got-it-goin'-on hourglass. She is definitely apple-shaped. Bless her heart.

The question now is: Where do I hide the body? And how the hell do I drag it out of here without security noticing? And how do I do it? Do I climb over the partition while she's on a conference call, and her back is to me, and stab her in the jugular with a spork?

I hail from one of the organized-crime capitals of the US - maybe I should get on Classmates.com and phone a friend. Make it look like an accident...like she choked on her freakin' cheeseburger.

5 comments:

Country Girl said...

I'm for grilling her...with a side of au jus.

alejna said...

"...stab her in the jugular with a spork"

Everything's funnier with sporks. Especially homicide.

I'll just sit back here and nibble on some celery. Far out of the reach of your spork.

Melissa said...

I'm thinking you could just do it and not worry. No court in the world will convict you. Especially a jury of your peers.

Comet Girl said...

Forget Chi-town. Don't you know that Franklin County is the hitman capital of the WORLD. It was on 60 minutes. Bubba can "take her out" in the parking lot for a case of Bud and that chick's leftovers! You're welcome!

Le laquet said...

Suffocate her in the mashed potatoes!! The girls in work did the same think to me yesterday - brought chips at lunchtime ... quadroped bovines each and everyone of them!