CRAIG EDWARD KELSO, Fat Girl

Purchasing petrol, my mind wandered as I stood in the morning line.

All men, a few construction-type workers talked in obnoxious code as they sipped hot coffee, waiting.

One of them turned toward me, and he rolled his eyes in the direction of the gas station clerk. 

He raised his eyebrows as if to suggest something intriguing about her. I hadn’t noticed. So, I looked slightly over his shoulder to see if she had the goods. 

Hey, I am a guy.

Poor girl was the size of a small planet. 

Her face was pleasant enough, but anyone that fat has some severe emotional problems … regardless of what Oprah says. Fat to that degree is depression. Who knows what’s going on in her life, what she struggles with personally? 

All I know, and I am an EXPERT on this subject (I should have an honorary doctorate in fatology), is she needs to push herself from the table and move a little. The fat will fall off her. There’s still time to save her figure, actually. She looks young enough (probably in her early 20s). Yeah, she’ll have some stretch marks. But who cares? 

I fucked one fat woman, and she was a wonderful lover. Generous. Responsive. Etcetera. No problems. Her fat was a symptom of much, much deeper issues. She had self-control issues, obviously, and made poor decisions. These, in turn, contributed to a spiral of continual bad living. We didn’t end because she was fat; we ended because she could not function as an adult.

Dude breaks back-in vocally, and he mouths something like, Look at that fat bitch!

Man, I wanted to fucking knock him out. 

Wanted to lick the back of my right hand and slap his stupid ass then and there. 

What the fuck is wrong with people? Why do they get so much enjoyment out of other people’s misery? I could see pointing out her being a fat bitch if she was acting like a bitch. I probably wouldn’t take the shot, but if she’d been rude or something … that would have made at least a little bit of sense. 

She wasn’t at all. 

She was unfailingly polite as she took orders and returned change, ending with, Have a good day. Nothing but pleasant was what I was getting from her.

As the idiots in front of me pushed their way to the counter, they began to giggle and guffaw at her, right in front of her. 

Smart, she immediately picks up on what is happening, and I catch her eyes. 

Complete sadness. She’s alone. She was probably treated this way in high school, as cliques who claimed superiority murmured around her. This so reminded me of one of those situations. 

How I hate groups!

My turn, standing in the dust of the dudes who made her feel like shit, I hand her cash and ask for $10 on pump number 4. 

As I leave, she asks if I want change. 

Change? 

I handed her a $10 bill. I repeat confidently I want TEN on number 4, not four on number 10. She breaks into a wide, rather beautiful smile. 

She raises the bill I gave her. 

It’s a $20.

To you, this probably means nothing.

To me, the difference is a meal, the ability to do laundry, or make it to another day of work so I can pay rent. You piss away $10 on fancy coffee. I can’t.

To me, to lose $10 means a severe setback, mucho problemos.   

I made sure to pause long enough to appreciate what was happening. I approached her slowly, and thanked her. One of her doughy hands carefully placed the $10 in mine, and I thought we had a moment. 

Her pinky slid around the side of my receiving hand, and not on purpose.

No one else, for about thirty seconds, was in the store. We were alone, and I somehow knew that.

You know, I said looking directly at her, you’re very beautiful. You made my day today, already. I’ll come here to get gas just to see you from now on. Thanks for being so honest.

She blushed, and she didn’t blush because I am some kind of desirable Romeo. She probably has no interest in our hero. But I liked very much that she appreciated my compliment and flattery, that she was humble enough to take it.

I flew out the door, making a clean exit to gas up. 

Pumping, I caught her reflection on one of the car's back windows. Her smile seemed now permanently stuck as she served other customers.

And I mean it.

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