"Fat Girls" Printed on Restaurant Bill: Women Angered after Check Arrives with Hurtful Words

Posted on December 9, 2012 by Jennifer Lilley



Ah, nicknames.  Sweetie.  Crazy J.  Peanut.  Bo-bo.  Slim.

Some are terms of endearment based on items in the nut aisle.  Others are simply the person’s first and last initials.

For three women at a Stockton, CA diner, it was an offensive reference to their weight which was actually printed on their December 6 bill.  After the ladies enjoyed their meal, they received their check and  immediately noticed the words, “Fat Girls” on the top left of the receipt.

Hmmm.  Guess what else was on the top left?  “Jeff,” the name of the now-suspended waiter who has since admitted to entering the hurtful words while programming their order in the system.



Christine Duran, Christina Huerta and Isabel Robles received bill from California diner with “Fat Girls” printed on top

My friends, this is a classic case of, “if you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say it at all.”  Think it, maybe.  But don’t say it.  Heck, even thinking it is not kind (but we all do it).  And if you can’t refrain (we all have our moments) from sharing your clever nickname with a friend, make sure you keep it between yourselves.  For crying out loud, don’t let the other person—especially a total stranger—in on the fact that you call her “Tarter Teeth” or “Baboon Breath.”  It’s ok, I suppose, for those situations between two super good buds who have that unique name-calling-bonding relationship:  you know, where you call 97-year old Aunt Gertie “Crepe Paper Arms” and she calls you “Sweaty Betty” and no one goes home mad.

I confess, I’ve played the nickname game.  For me, it’s often based on desserts and movie characters.

“Puddin’” for example, was  a waitress who had a habit of dropping the “g” and had a fondness for repetitiveness:

“What kinds of pudding do you have?” my parents would ask.

“Oh, we have chocolate puddin, rice puddin, bread puddin . . .” Of course, I’d smirk, finding it a bit entertaining. “Vanilla puddin, banana puddin . . .”  Even at other tables the puddin ramblin’s went on as she told others the desserts of the day.  Puddin managed to make me smile from afar.

So, her name stuck.

In grade school, us hyper kids had names for our teachers: There was “Wiggy Streak” (she had a silver streak in her giant pouff—assumed to be a wig—of otherwise brown hair) and  “E.T.” (it was a neck thing).

Now, before I’m carted off to Meanie Jail without dessert (puddin) for the night, let me reassure everyone:  Never once did I say these names directly to the person.  Eight-year old me never said, “Hey E.T., here’s my essay on bees.”   These were things uttered or thought behind closed doors, over the phone or giggled at in the car.

What is wrong is when nicknames go from the inner workings of our minds and oh, I don’t know, on to a diner bill for customers to see: Fat Girls.

Seriously?



That’s me, 1994.

Having been 70 pounds heavier years ago, I most certainly find this offensive (I can hear readers say: yeah, but you thought of your teacher as a wrinkly-necked Spielberg character.  To which I say: Yeah, but not to her face and even then, I felt kind of bad for the thought). While I never received a bill that bore the words “Fat Family,” I’ve faced hurtful weight-related looks and expressions.  Back in the day, kids made the pufferfish “fat face” expression in the car next to me, then sped off laughing.  There were sarcastic comments from close friends about rethinking my blouse choice.  Brazen folks shouted things from the street, as recent as five years ago.  I could go on.

Much as we say we don’t judge books by their covers, we do.  What I’m starting to see though (thank goodness) is a collective awareness that we are even doing this in the first place and more importantly, the ability to just as quickly snap ourselves out of it.  Sure, we can come up with a clever name for that man with droopy ears or that young girl who dresses differently, but it’s time to tame ourselves and remember: we all have something.  Others can just as easily come back to us with a funky name that addresses our intellect, obsessive habit or family situation.

A life filled with jokes and silly moments is a wonderful thing.  But when comments go too far, the hurt lasts a long, long time.

I’m sorry this happened to these women, but I’m glad they stood up to management and have gone public with their story.

Something tells me they didn’t leave a tip.

©Copyright 2011-2012,  Jennifer Lilley, FlabbyRoad.com and Flabby Road: Moving on & Leaving the Elastic Waistbands Behind.   Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jennifer Lilley and Flabby Road with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Posted in diet, eating, food, health, overeating, Uncategorized, weight and tagged Chilly Ds, Christina Huerta, Christine Duran, fat girls receipt, Isabel Robles, making fun of fat people, name calling, nicknames. Bookmark the permalink.

The Mayans & the Twinkie Tragedy: Yes, this Just Might Be the End of the World

Posted on November 16, 2012 by Jennifer Lilley



Dec. 21, 2012 is the date doomsday folk declare as the end of the world.  Apparently, it’s based on the Mayan calendar whose end date is – yep, you guessed it – 12/21/12. In other words, it’s fast approaching. People have been preparing with prayer, purchase of End of World kits and getting ready to party, a Mayan Mojito in one hand and well, a Mayan Mojito in the other.  But all Harold Camping flashbacks aside, one can’t help but think:  this end of world thing may be for real.

Seriously, people. The signs have always been surfacing:   Fires and quakes, political meanies and cashiers who lick their fingers in order to unstick your dollars in change. But one recent event is a sure sign –  if ever I saw one – that we’re well on our way to having one less End of World kit in stock.

Seek & Ye Shall (No Longer) Find

I cast my eyes upward at the lights, oh so bright and heavenly lights coming forth from The Laptop when suddenly the beast spewed headlines that went like this:

“Twinkies maker Hostess plans to go out of business.”

And I read.  And I wept.

Then I rejoiced.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not doing cartwheels that such an iconic brand may soon be a thing of the past. It’s sort of strange to think that soon, we might be clicking the “like” button because we remember a picture of Wonder Bread’s colorful circles-on-plastic packaging.  It is quite sad to hear of bankruptcy difficulties, striking employees, job loss and all the resulting economic complications.   It’s sad and serious indeed.



A Victory for the Health Conscious?

But in my own way, I felt like this was a good riddance, a victory, if you will, for those genuinely concerned with eating right, losing weight (or keeping lost weight off). At the very least it removes the temptation. Away with golden spongy “goodness,” sugary “Donettes” and Wonder Bread that used to fuel my childhood and much of my adulthood.  After losing 70 pounds years ago, I’m pleased to see this as a potential healthy dent in the junk food aisle. So for that, I am glad.

Yes, I’m aware that the brand may never really go away, likely snatched up by the Next Big Company, repackaged and rebranded as some healthy on-the-go option. Maybe they’ll be called, “Dinky Twinkies,” half the size, half the calories, but with the same deliciousness that leads to expanding waistlines and even more expanding profits we’ve always enjoyed.

Sigh.

So it goes.  At the very least, hopefully the Twinkies Tragedy will make people think from a health standpoint.

Wouldn’t we really be better off if we could chip away at the bad stuff and in turn, help fight the obesity epidemic? Away with the sugary excess, bad (really bad) fats and the “it’s made of WHAT?” shock.  No more Twinkies here, no more powered donuts there. Little by little the lessening of these things would help lessen problems like high blood pressure, high cholesterol and high numbers on the scale.

Yet I can just see the eye rolls now as people have visions of carrots replacing caramels and tofu taking over taffy.

C’mon.

It’s not like it would be the end of the world.

©Copyright 2011-2012,  Jennifer Lilley, FlabbyRoad.com and Flabby Road: Moving on & Leaving the Elastic Waistbands Behind.   Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jennifer Lilley and Flabby Road with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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