A little story from my gym this morning:
Two young, cute girls are at the lockers getting ready to head out for the day. One has a “Lifetime Fitness” bag on the bench.
“Wow, how’d you get that bag? I love it, can you buy those from here?”
“I don’t know. I was just walking past this office and the guy asked me if I wanted the bag. I said ‘For Free?’ and he said ‘You are just the kind of person that represents what Lifetime Fitness is all about. I’d be honored if you would carry our bag.'”
(A few rows over there is me puking.)
OK, seriously, for real??? He knows all about her and that she is what Lifetime Fitness is all about just because she walked past his office? I can see though, why a young nubile thing would qualify over some 30-something mother of 3 with a fulltime job that not only makes the effort to work out every day and to stay in shape when it is difficult, but has used the gym over the past year and a half while going from obese to fit and continues to do so in a twin pregnancy. I can see how someone who works out to stay healthy even when it doesn’t give you so much a ‘sexy’ body but a stretch marked, saggy, healthy body that allows you to live life to the fullest, I can see how that wouldn’t be “what Lifetime is all about”. Yes, I know, I sound bitter and YES, I know, I’m the LAST person on the planet that Lifetime employees would EVER consider handing their PR over to even if it was just to be seen walking around with a bag with their name on it. Also, I’d have said no way to the guy had he asked so, ya know, whatever. Lastly, I know he was just flirting with her and that it didn’t get him much because she apparently doesn’t even know his name so that part is kinda funny to me.
Speaking of the gym, you should be proud of me. I’ve been at 186 for the last two days and I haven’t freaked out about it at all. I’m certain the the leap has a lot to do with the delivery of the chocolate covered carmel corn from Gavin’s fundraiser at our house in addition to the fact that I did not hit the gym on Sunday or Monday. I’m living with it though. Last year on Thanksgiving Day for the first time in my weight loss journey, I hit my goal of 170 pounds. I’m hoping next year by the time Thanksgiving rolls around, I’ll be under that but obviously this year, it is hard to compare.
So the other day, after freezing for yet another full day, I gave up and went to purchase some warmer maternity shirts. I didn’t want to spend much money, I just wanted something to keep me warm. I cannot believe how cold I still am but short sleeved shirts aren’t going to cut it this winter. I walked into the Motherhood store that is near my house and the girl that was running the store was on me like, well, a bored sales girl in an empty store.
“Welcome to Motherhood, can I help you, are you looking for anything in particular, how far along are you, have you seen our super fancy belly pants?” I’m not certain this girl breathes like a normal person. I’m not a mean person… at least… I don’t THINK I’m a mean person. I’m not a SHY person, that I know. But there is something about gabby strangers that makes me want to hide. I’m always so impressed with P because no matter where we go, he is always so kind and inclusive to all the people around us. Me, not so much.
So I’m saying in my head “Tell her ‘just looking’. Tell her ‘just looking’.” but out loud my MOUTH says “I’m looking for some warmer shirts to wear.” OH! I invite it onto myself, people. Of course, she asks how far along I am and I say I’m 18 weeks and her eyes get big and I say it is twins and her eyes get bigger and I say it is a surrogacy and she melts. She states that she wishes she could’ve known someone like me when she was having kids (BTW – she looked to be about 17 years old). She said she had two kids and couldn’t have anymore and she was so sad about not being able to have more. I did feel for her, really, but in lieu of my belly making me a walking therapist I really DID want to just buy some shirts and I was pressed for time as I was trying to sneak the whole trip into the time between leaving work and picking the kids up from daycare. So I try to start finding shirts.
That is when she took me on a tour of the store to point out for me each and every long sleeved shirt in the store and to tell me the (obvious) features of each and every one. IE – “Here we have a long sleeved shirt with a V-neck and that bunched look on the side in a green.” OK, first, what clothing retail person high enough up on the chain to run the whole store by herself doesn’t know the term “rouching”? I tried to help her out by offering the term to her but she kinda gave me a ‘deer in headlights’ look and said ya, whatever, that bunchy look is. Next, I was so irritated at the time wasted as she pointed out every last color difference and neckline difference and ‘bunchy look’ difference she could find when I could CLEARLY just browse the store myself to see these features, that I was having a hard time being polite. Thankfully, someone else came into the store so she left me to wallow in my own eyesight for shirts while she talked to this other person.
In my ‘alone’ time, I picked up a bunch of XL shirts hoping that they would cover the expanse of belly that the internet showed me would happen. I tried these on and some of them worked OK, others were just clearly too big above the belly and I could not use the XL. The sales girl asked how I was doing and while I had LOOKED for the large of one of the shirts I wanted and didn’t see it, I risked a question by asking if there was any chance they might have a size of something in the back if it wasn’t on the rack. She said no, but repeated to me 5 times about a sale they were going to have and that the size would probably be there. She also looked at me funny and said “You are going to get a lot bigger though, aren’t you? You sure you want a size L?” I tried to explain that I couldn’t JUST get the shirts sized to the potential belly, that it needed to fit my chest as well, and she asked if my milk had come in yet. Um, hmm. I have to admit. I REALLY wanted this person to go away.
While I was finishing up in the dressing room with the shirts I wanted, the person that had come in was talking to the sales girl. She was talking about how she was looking for some pants that could fit her post-partum because she wasn’t back to her original size yet. Then she said, and I kid you not: “I really have to hurry because my baby is out in the car.” Um, it was FREEZING out and she is so soon after giving birth that she needs maternity pants and she LEFT HER NEWBORN IN THE CAR??? The sales girl said “You could’ve brought her in!” (Yay sales girl.) and she replies “It’s the first time I’ve ever brought her out so I didn’t want her exposed in the stores.” Mind you, this woman has been in the store for a good 15 mintues already and is currently standing in a dressing room without any pants on so, ya know, she’s not planning on leaving any time soon. Are people really this dumb?
So, I gather up my 4 new shirts and head to the register while ‘baby-in-car’ woman ponders her pants options. After totally confusing the sales girl because I told her I didn’t want the shirts in a bag and she wondered how I’d manage to carry 4 shirts out to my car without a bag, I left the frightening store. BTW – to her incredulous “WHY?” I answered that I don’t like to use the plastic and she gave me a funny look but to her credit she moved on to talk about how her and her daughter made bags out of old tee shirts from a Martha Stuart show even though she really really doesn’t like Martha Stuart. ‘Baby-in-car’ woman was still in the dressing room when I left so I’m hoping she did, in fact, leave the store shortly after that.
Well, don’t I sound like a bitch today? I’m sticking with the standard, it’s my blog so deal with it response to that. For what it is worth, I smiled, nodded, made appreciative non-committal comments to everything the sales girl said to me and thanked her and waved goodbye on my way out so I’m pretty sure she had no idea I was pre-writing my blog in my head the whole time I was there. Also for what it is worth, had I BEEN that sales girl, I’d have refused to allow ‘baby-in-car’ women into the dressing room again until after she went out to the car to bring the baby in.
Filed under: fun with obesity, Lifetime Fitness blows, womb for rent | 6 Comments »