In case you are in need of a story that represents how, especially when you least expect it, life can throw you a delicious bone to gnaw on with all of your past frustrations and rage, this one’s for you. It happened years ago, but I still think about it fondly and refer to it as a source of truth in an all too often harsh and unjust world.
Revenge is sweet and not fattening.
– Alfred Hitchcock
There’s a young woman that I have the greatest displeasure of working with at the office named Jackie*. Jackie has treated me like her pet dog since I arrived on the scene even though our jobs are in no way aligned. I happen to have a cubicle that abuts hers, and normally she is the kind of person that doesn’t talk to me unless she needs something. Even then, no matter what I might be doing, her shit is far more important than my own and demands the highest priority, even if it puts me out or interrupts my schedule. She is incredibly patronizing and has an extreme intellectual ego that makes every conversation (though few and far between) tedious and exhausting. I could probably draw you a map of my own brain based on the number of times I have rolled my eyes to the back of my skull while conversing with her.
To top it all off, Jackie is highly unattractive. I’m not just saying this because she’s a bridge troll to me. Sometimes these things are just facts, plain and simple. Of course, her many unfortunate character flaws only exacerbate the woes of her physical image. She is effortlessly greasy, grimy and slovenly. It looks as though she’s never seen the interior of a shower stall, and I doubt she owns a washing machine as her clothing is always stained with something foul and decaying since she doesn’t believe in napkins and eats very wet things (like saucy tunafish too runny for bread slices to contain) for lunch without a plate. She has gained an incredible amount of weight in the past year after getting – in her words – “quite comfortable in her new relationship” – and at this point, we all just need to recognize that if SHE can find a man that can not just tolerate but somehow delight in all of her horrors inside and out, then ANYONE, even those missing substantial amounts of chromosomes, can find love in this cold, dank world of ours, kids. Of course, gaining weight is a natural part of life for most of us and in no way do I support fat shaming of any kind. BUT, but if you do find yourself packing on the pounds and don’t think to adjust your wardrobe accordingly, you must admit you’re borrowing trouble and that this error will, indeed, catch up with you eventually…our poor Jackie, however, is under the unfortunate impression that she can still wear the clothes she bought several years ago without incident, as if there’s no real noticeable change to her physique at all.
So, today, I get out of my office and start to make my way to the restroom, only to find myself trailing Jackie from behind, talking with another mutual colleague. Normally, this would have prompted nothing more than a quick face of dread and disgust accompanied by a fast ditch into the bathroom to escape her notice and acknowledgement. But, this time was different. Here’s why:
Jackie has a favorite skirt that she wears ALL the time. She can’t stop talking about how comfy it is, while being sleek and stylish (insert snorting laughter HERE because you can see its many pills and worn threads from across a crowded, poor lit room, not to mention the dull sheen it gives off due to its mostly plastic-based fabric). To make matters worse, she’s clearly the Queen of Denial when it comes to admitting that it’s the last thing in her closet that she can stuff herself into on a regular basis.
Well, alas, it was only a matter of time before that poor skirt found the inner courage to rise above the fray and fight back, representing the plight of all its other brethren that have been forced to suffer the indignities of being pulled, expanded, and stretched too far for Mother Nature’s many laws. As she lurched her way down the hall on ridiculously high heels (a view from behind that makes even the Leaning Tower of Pisa look safe and secure), that skirt spoke to me.
It started as a small cry for help, as I noticed that something just didn’t look quite right about it anymore (in addition to all the ways it was never all that right to begin with). Then, the voice built to a raging crescendo as I recognized that the back vertical SEAM HAD SPLIT, right down Jackie’s very own stark white crack of dawn. Her fire-engine red thong rejoiced at its new freedom as it waved a big ol’ HOWDY DO! through the tattered, defeated threads of its once stuffed-sausage cage. Only the thick elastic band around her heavy waist remained intact, securing our hopes that Jackie would likely be none the wiser until this situation became much more public as she clunked like a Clydesdale down the halls…
I stopped dead in my tracks, relishing the moment with mouth agape and eyes agast. I smirked not-so-subtly, then flung myself into the bathroom and cried out with a reverberating “YES!!! THERE IS A GOD!!!” and jumped wildly up and down.
Now, I know what you’re all going to say…
Response #1: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Wow. But didn’t you chase after her and tell her?”
Response #2: “Pleeeaaase tell me that you told her. Please tell me that you put aside your differences and told her, right? DIDN’T YOU?”
Response #3: “I am sure you told her…..of course you did, because it’s the right thing to do…right?”
Response #4: “I can’t wait to tell my husband! But, you did tell her, right?”
ANSWER:
Get. Serious.
I’m waiting for the afternoon, when I would be taking pictures at our office party that Jackie has been planning for months. As the editor of our office newsletter, I can only document the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…because there IS a God. So help me.
*Names have been changed to protect the guilty
OMG. This is hilarious. And oh so relatable. Thank you for sharing.
theempiricalfiles.com 
Well said. I wish I would had this much insight into my own self when I was doing the dating…