Having been an obese person for quite a long time, I’m no stranger to embarrassing situations – in face, I have extensive experience.  My fat girl resume is a veritable list of humiliating interludes.  A few of them have been quite heartbreaking, but most of them were just damn funny.  I’m the kind of person who would much rather laugh than cry.  Okay, maybe I wasn’t laughing at the time…but in retrospect, this is the kind of crap that could only happen to me…and if I have a choice, I’m gonna laugh about it.

I went grocery shopping a few nights back and was shocked as hell to discover that the bag boy at the center of this story is still working there.  I haven’t seen him for ages and assumed he’d moved on to his dream job (which is clearly punking fat people).  No such luck, though.  I stood there horrified, trapped between a rather threatening display of Little Debbie Easter cakes and the Bag Boy from Hell.

(Yes, the Little Debbies were on clearance…she is such a nuclear bitch!)

Of course, I was so alarmed that I went straight home and updated my Facebook Fan Page to let all of you know that the Bag Boy from Hell was back.  I promised to tell the story here…so here it goes:

One chilly Texas winter night not too long ago, I was standing in the check-out line where this very same bag boy was working.  In addition to a ton of food, I also had two large packs of firewood that were a little hard for me to lift into the cart (just got my nails did!)  So, when I paid for my groceries and the bag boy asked me if I needed help out, I said yes.

Big mistake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we walked to the car, we exchanged the normal pleasantries that are customary during the bag boy/customer walk through the parking lot.

“Isn’t it a chilly night…”

“Yes, I do have all my Christmas shopping done…”

“Oh, you want to be a rapper someday?  How nice.”

Um…what?

Run, Dianne.  RUN.

As I’m unlocking my car, he starts rapp’in.  Badly.

At first I thought he was being funny, but then I realized he was dead serious.

The only line I can remember besides the chorus was “So I needed me some coin, got a job atta Kroger”.  After that, I was acutely aware that everyone in the parking lot was looking in our direction.  People going in and out of the store slowed down just to watch.  A family loading groceries in their car completely stopped what they were doing.  The owner of the effing Chinese food place next to the store came out and stood in the doorway.

I stood there, helpless, as P. Diddy Junior rapped at the top of his lungs while throwing my firewood ON TOP of the bottles of diet soda in my back seat.  Just when I’m thinking it can’t possibly get any worse, he gets to the chorus:

“So I load’in up ya car and you take’in it all home
You gonna EAT IT UP, EAT IT UP, EAT IT UP…YEAH!
You gonna EAT IT UP, EAT IT UP, EAT IT UP…YEAH!”

Well, I’ll tell ya peeps…there’s nothing a big fat girl loves more than to have some Tupac wanna-be loading her car full of food and yelling “You gonna EAT IT UP, EAT IT UP, EAT IT UP…YEAH!” over and over.  It felt like an hour before he loaded my damn groceries in the car, and then I peeled out for home.

Thanks, Diddy.  Thanks a bunch.

Not too long after that, I noticed he wasn’t around anymore and I thought he either found another job or was fired.  Perhaps he started rapping “Smack a bitch and steal her Snickers” to the store manager’s chubby wife and she took offense.  Can’t imagine why.

Now he’s back…and I have to choose my check-out lane with extreme caution again.  Of course, I can always try and beat him at his own game.  I could just get jiggy myself and take the words right out of his mouth…check it, yo:

I gave up sugar and soda, I’m a fat girl’s Yoda
I’m gett’in lean and mean and I’m eat’in some mo green
Yo, I got smarts in my nogg’in and I love to do da blogg’in
I got my marbles, found my niche – Mr Scale is my bitch
Made a purse outta my pants, come on, y’all, let’s dance

BOO-yeah!

Shit just got real.  Word.  Peace out.