Over Eaters Anonymous
I was out grocery shopping one afternoon when a woman and I walked into the store at the same time. I went on about my business and figured she did the same. However, I noticed she always seemed to be on the same aisle that I was and although we had come into the store at the same time, I still felt as though she was following me.
No matter where I went in the store, she was there. I was even more convinced that it was not a coincidence when I skipped two rows ahead and she was still right behind me. I backtracked to the two rows I missed, and there she was again.
When I checked out, she checked out at the next counter. By the time I was walking out to my car, I was perturbed. I wasn’t afraid. No, I was quite irritated. Those that know me, know I have no qualms about speaking my peace. I say things before I think about them.
As I pushed the buggy toward my car I heard someone behind me calling, “Ma’am, Ma’am, can I speak to you for a minute?”
Thanks to those eyes my daughter was convinced I had in the back of my head, I knew who it was. “What do you want?” I said as I spun around to face her.
“I’m sorry, but I was following you in the store,” she confessed.
“Yeah, I noticed. What do you want?” I repeated.
“I noticed that you buy a lot of healthy nutritious foods and not a lot of the processed food,” she explained. “You know, you’re buying fresh fruits and vegetables and not chips and dips for your family.”
Now, I was really confused. Was she really following me around to see what kinds of food I was buying? What was wrong with this woman? With what I know had to have been a look of confusion on my face, I asked, “What about it?”
Without any hint of hesitation, she answered, “Well, some friends of mine and I are starting a new group in town called Over Eaters Anonymous and I was wondering if you’d like to join us?”
“Why would you ask a perfect stranger something like that?” I asked.
With a small smile she answered, “Like I said, I noticed you buy healthier foods and you have a weight problem.”
“I have a weight problem?” I asked incredulously. “What gave me away? Was it the way I walked, the overhanging gut, or was it how my fat ass is squeezed into my blue jeans and will probably need to be squeegeed off of me later?”
“Here’s my card if you decide you’d like to join us,” she said laughingly as she passed me a business card. Right at the top it said “Over Eaters Anonymous.”
“Sweetheart, there is nothing anonymous about an over eater,” I replied as I stuck her card into my purse. “You can’t miss us. Just look for the sign on our rear-ends that say we’re hauling a double load.”