FAT CHINESE BABE

It cannot have escaped your attention that Chinese American women have ridiculous expectations. And, often, are completely divorced from any sense of reality. My apartment mate is a Chinese American woman, and consequently spews some remarkably crazy stuff, which makes me severely doubt her sanity, as well as experience a deep and abiding frustration. I sincerely wish she realized exactly how irritating it is.
But you can count on me to be the soul of diplomacy.

She went to see the doctor recently.

And didn't like the result.


"Waaah, I'm sick, AND I'm fat!"


Apparently she's 115 pounds. Which is slightly over the extreme low end for her height and age, but thirty pounds BELOW the most she could weigh and still be healthy. A scrawny chicken, in other words.

Being a white male, and not particularly concerned about weight anyway, because I am not involved with anyone, quite naturally I howled.
It was all I could do to keep from choking on my coffee.
The poor dear thinks she's fat!
Hoo hah!

This is a woman who still buys her jeans in the junior miss section, or sometimes even the boys department, because everything for adults feels big as a tent. Years ago I knew her measurements, bra & panties, and shoe size, but back in the day if I tried to buy her stuff, shop assistants would regard me queerly and ask why I was shopping for a girl.

Was I a single dad? Or a degenerate?

I'm neither, and we are no longer involved, so that problem does not present itself anymore. But I do know that for the past several years she's worn Barely There in sizes from AA to A. How do I know? Guess who sometimes dries her scanties in the bathroom we share!


Fat, she says.


Look, sweatheart, most of the women I know would probably kill for your weight. Of course, they'd probably do that by slaughtering you and eating your body to get rid of the evidence, but they'd have to wrap it in bacon to keep the chops from drying out over the grill there's so little fat. A starving village would look at you and figure there just ain't enough there to make breaking the laws of G-d or man worthwhile; throw you back in hopes you'll put on a few. Not quite prison campy, or even seven lean years.
But fat, good gracious no.


"Burn down the mansions in Tiburon!"


[Okay, that was my own apropos of nothing input, Because if you"re going to protest the inauguration of Trump, you might as well do so where it can hurt. Burn the mother down. 
As an old-school "Special Snowflake" I believe in taking the revolution to ground zero.


I wonder how her boyfriend is going to take the "fat" announcement. Both of them are Aspy as all git-out, and Wheelie Boy may not have the perspective and sensitivity to burst out laughing.

The idiot might persuade her to diet.
Being supportive, or something.

Sometimes dealing with people who are so Asperger syndromish can be trying. Especially when they evince literalist mode.
Thank heavens I'm "normal".



She has a cold, in case you were wondering. She's woken up to cough and cough and cough every night for the past few days. But she'll probably be over it soon, as the doctor gave her some syrup.

It's the same ailment I had for over a month. But I successfully managed to hide it from her. She thought my occasional bouts of hairball up-hacking were tobacco related.

Sometimes Aspy Chinese women are delightfully dense.



AFTER WORD

Yes, I looked up bra sizes on the internet while I was writing this. As I had forgotten what they were. I haven't actually been near bosoms in quite a while. I'm fairly certain I still remember what they look like.




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