Your kind ain't welcome around here...

I got pissed off at work and decided to high-tail it outta here and go have lunch by myself. Even though sitting at a restaurant eating by myself makes me feel like a worthy candidate for Loser of the Year, it's still better than having to put on a fake happy smile for an hour pretending I'm not super pissed. Plus I hate when people do shit to piss you off, then they're like "So....what are you doing for lunch?" Keying your car, obviously! (I didn't.)

Anywho, I went to Super Mex. It's some crappy restaurant with really greasy food that's good for drowning my sorrows in cheese and salsa.

So anyway, sitting at the table next to me are these three burly construction-worker-type dudes. I dunno if they were really construction workers, but you could tell they worked manly jobs. Then I hear the word "point" and my ears perk up because it's like hearing someone speaking your native language while you're in a foreign country. Excuse me, is that Weight Watchers you're speaking...in here? They were. "I can have a slice of that fat free cheese for one point blah blah blah..."

Seriously?

These big burly fuckers discussing the merits of fat free cheese in the greasiest restaurant in town? How did this happen? It's like I can't fucking escape this shit.

Judging by the scraped clean plates on their tables and the empty bowl of Chili Con Queso, they obviously, like me, aren't practicing what they preach. It doesn't matter how much you know about something if you still aren't applying.

I guess you could say I found comfort in the thought that in any given place in America, there's probably at least one person who knows the WW point system like the back of their hand and is still making incredibly bad choices.

Fatties unite!