No I am not giving you a wheelchair because you're the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Woman

So, over the past couple of years, I've lost some weight. Like, a significant amount of weight. Like, almost 40 pounds. I've considered writing a book about it, because isn't that what you're supposed to do when you lose weight? Am I right folks?

I think 40 pounds isn't a book-worthy amount of weight loss...although I feel like people who are 500 pounds can say they lost 350 pounds - I can't say I lost as much because I haven't been that big and it's mostly not my fault! Also I realized if I wrote one it would pretty much be a copy of the Dave Chappell sketch about the new weight-loss plan, "Don't Eat So F***ing Much," with an addendum about getting off the couch and out of the Denny's a little more often.

The point of all this is, a woman came into the train station this morning huffing and puffing and had to sit down in a chair because she's had to walk - not run, walk - in from her car. Like, 500 feet. And then she asked if we had a wheelchair to take her out to the train because "We didn't know it'd be a half-mile walk from the car!"

A half-mile, really? It's bizarre to me how things can look so different from one pair of eyes to the next. I think spending $200 on a t-shirt is ridiculous, while people making shit tons of money think it's spare change. I think that if you have an ass larger than the trunk of my car and can't walk 500 feet without getting winded, I think that's a problem. To some people it means we need more Wall-E-style scooter chairs so eating like it's your job isn't a problem anymore (minus the heart attacks and diabetes, that is).

Now listen - I'm all for enjoying the fruits (or twinkies or whatever) of your labor. I'm sure you have a medical problem or some other kind of thing. Having been more overweight myself (now just being somewhat acceptably overweight) the whole "clinically obese" thing translates to me as a lack of self-respect. Get a dog, and walk it. But please, don't take the medical problems you have because you decided to have those extra 4 burritos and go for the "woe is me" approach. Nobody shoved that shit down your throat. Who did what to whom here? Because I'm not involved, and no, you don't get a wheelchair.

You don't get a wheelchair, and I'm not telling you where the elevator is, lady. Because there are signs, and I think you could benefit from a walk up and down the stairs!