Reflections On A Middle-Aged Fat Woman (11 page)

"Hello?"

"Helen? Is that you?"

“Hello?”

"Hello? Helen? Are you there?" he asked.

"No, this isn't Helen," I said. "You've dialed the wrong number and have been for the last ten years."

"Oh! Well, I'm not looking for Helen, I'm looking for Ellen. Is this 695-0171?"

"Yes, it is, but Ellen doesn't live here and I've had this same number for ten years," I replied.

"Oh?"

An awkward silence ensued and it seemed like I could hear Doug's brain trying to figure this one out.

"Well, this here is the only number I got for Ellen and if she wants her car back she'll have to call me. Sorry, I been bothering you all these years. There's just one thing before I hang up, I'm a pretty good mechanic; you don't need any work done, do you?"

Mother, Daughter Conversations — June 22, 2009

I decided to call my mom since it had been over a week since we had spoken and this is the following conversation that took place:

Mom: “Hello?”

Me: “Hey, whatcha’ doing?”

Mom: “Watching a movie.”

Me: “Which one?”

Mom: “I think it's called
The Mentalist
or something.”

Me: “That's not a movie; it's a television show. Did you lose my number?”

Mom: “I've been busy. And you know the phone works both ways, young lady. And don't you get smart with me either. I got my bedroom cleaned up and the rest of the yard sale stuff put away. Plus, I've been babysitting and carrying your brother back and forth to the doctor. What have you been doing?”

Me: “Nothing, I was sick most of the week. I had to carry the cat to the vet because he wasn't feeling well.”

Mom: “How can you tell? He just lies around all the time anyway. I swear, whoever heard of an entire family having the same disease, right down to the cat. What was wrong with you?”

Me: “Well, I think it was my kidneys, might have been my back. I had a sore throat, I was sweaty, had a sinus-like condition and I was grumpy.”

Mom: “Phhhfft! There ain't nothing wrong with you and you've been grouchy your whole life. You're just having more of those hot flashes again, aren't you? You know, when I went through the change, I had everything you just described and it lasted about fifteen years. You didn't hear me complaining, did you? I had you three kids, your father, and a full-time job. Take an aspirin, and get a fan or two, you'll be all right. You should've called me; I would have told you what was wrong.”

Me: “...but, Mom?”

Mom: “I gotta go, call me later!”

Click!

Size Matters — June 24, 2009

I've been pretty agreeable the last few months. Nothing has really gotten on my nerves too much, nothing really to complain about. I guess that's a good thing!

Unfortunately, the good times never last.

Do you know what set me off this time?

Size!

Everything I seem to purchase lately comes in a new and improved formula, costs twice as much, and comes in smaller containers.

The first item to get under my skin is
Reader's Digest
magazine. I am a yearly subscriber and have been for several years. The stories are inspirational and I love reading its different humor categories. What I don't like is flipping through page after page of advertising to find a story. And the edition I just got for July seemed like it was only half of what it should be.

The next company that seems to be tinkering with its products a lot lately is the Coca Cola Company. First, they have started with the new 20 pack that costs just as much as what a 24 pack does. What's up with that?

Now, they have come out with a two pack product that is smaller than a two liter bottle but costs more than (2) two liters combined. Do they think we're not paying attention?

The last thing that chaps the MA Fat Woman’s ass is To Go containers. Have you noticed how small they have gotten?

Heaven forbid if you want something to go other than what's wrapped in a piece of paper and then dropped in a bag. I carried a To Go container to my mom from a chicken joint one day and she accused me of eating half of hers. Ain't that something? (I had thought about it, but didn't.)

I know it costs a lot to put out a magazine and keep the world supplied with Cokes. They say America is overweight, so maybe, that's why they have reduced the sizes of the To Go containers. But, at some point in the near future, consumers are going to reconsider that size does matter, and they will stop purchasing your products.

Fumigating The House — July 9, 2009

Something stinks!

I don't know what it is but it sure is stinky.

I keep smelling the cat and he keeps sniffing me.

It ain't the litter box; I've been changing it like ten times a day.

I've checked out my own smelly areas and there doesn't seem to be any more abnormal smells than usual. I asked Mom to give me a sniff but she just shook her head and walked away.

I started to ask Brother if he wanted to smell me but he told me that I had smelled for years, turned around and then farted in my direction and said, "Here, smell this!" and walked away.

I've checked the space between the stove and the counter because food can drop down through the gap.

I've checked the refrigerator and there isn't any moldy stuff.

The toilet keeps flushing correctly; no backup in the tub or sink.

I went down in the basement because that's where it seems to be emanating from. It's an earthen basement and there's lots of creepy crawly stuff.

The cat seems to be doing a lot of sniffing near the dryer vent. Maybe something came in through there.

Anyhow, I'm on my second can of Lysol and if the smell doesn't break soon, I'm gonna have to call in the professionals.

What Color Is That? — July 27, 2009

I had to make an unexpected short road trip this weekend to meet my sister halfway to drop my niece off so she could go back home after spending a few weeks with her Grandma. After the exchange, Mom and I decided that we would take the long way back home and ended up in Somerset, Kentucky, on the fourth Saturday of the month.

If you live anywhere within a 200 mile radius of Somerset you know that's the night they have a Cruise In. Every old car from a Model T to a '57 Chevy to a '65 Mustang all the way to souped up Monte Carlos and imitation Gravediggers were not only on display but were cruising up and down Highway 27.

Luckily, we had driven my super cool and hot-looking dark red Mustang and before you knew it we were cruising with all of the other hot rods. If you've never had a Mustang then you probably didn't know that everybody, all the time, wants to see what your car can do. It kinda gets old when 16-year-old pimply faced boys in 4-cylinder Civics want to take on the MA Fat Woman in her sexy red car. Give it up! You will not beat me in a zero-to-sixty burst of speed and you will be eating my dust.

There is a specific reason that I wanted to go to Somerset and that's because it has the most southern Gold Star Chili restaurant. If you're not from the Cincinnati (Midwest) area then you don't know what I'm referring to. If you're from there then you know that you'll do most anything to get your chili fix.

Different parts of the country all have specific foods that the locals just can't live without, even when they move away. My addiction just so happens to be a three-way spaghetti and a cheese Coney, no onions and mustard, of course.

Anyhow, after we had enjoyed our meal we decided that we would get an ice cream to help settle our stomachs.

See, there are two things about Cincinnati style chili: You always get stains on your shirt from eating it and you usually have a small case of heartburn, or maybe a belch or toot later in the day.

We found an outside bench to sit on while eating our ice cream and continued to watch the cars go past, admiring the different models and varied colors. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a '55 or '56 model Chevy drove past. I didn't really know what color it was. I looked at Mom and said "What color is that?"

"Titty pink!" she said.

"What?"

"The car is titty pink," she said. "At least that's what we used to call it back in the 50s."

The Friend’s Birthday — August 9, 2009

Birthday wishes go out to the friend that I mention in my stories. Friend has experienced several of the MA Fat Woman's mishaps and can always be counted on for a good laugh, a no nonsense quote, or a story that will upstage mine every time.

Which reminds me of a story about Friend? Friend had a big time job and several underlings at her disposal for years. When birthdays and holidays floated around they always celebrated big. Everyone got cakes, presents, and usually taken out to dinner or such.

Well, Friend was really excited when it was time to celebrate her birthday. She overheard them planning and plotting the details of the party and was very excited.

It didn't turn out that way. It seems the person that had done the planning had an emergency and all of the plans fell through. On the day of the birthday, there was nothing.

No dinner!

No presents!

And no cake!

Somebody realized what had happened and ran to Walmart to get an emergency cake. The day was a Friday and the office was scarcely staffed. After about three or four people sang “Happy Birthday,” each grabbed a slice of cake and scattered back to their respective offices.

When it was time to go home that evening, Friend went into the break room to get the cake to take home.

But, it wasn't there!

"Where's the cake?" she asked.

"Oh, so-and-so took it with her. She said nobody had chipped in, so she was taking it home!"

I know! Stuff like that happens all the time to her.

Happy Birthday, Friend!

I hope you get a cake that is all yours...

Car Trouble — August 7, 2009

I like to think that I know a little something about cars.

…I like to think that anyway.

Mom and I were out loaferin’ (riding around) in the Mustang the other night when my engine started shuddering as I was going up a hill.

Uh, oh!

Crap!

Shit!

Is there anything worse than car trouble?

“Sounds like it’s missing,” Mom said. It did sound like that, but it only seemed to shimmy and shake when it was going into or coming out of overdrive.

“I hope it’s not the transmission,” I replied. My friend just had her transmission replaced at a cost of $4500 and there was no way in the world that I wanted to spend that kind of money. And these days, who has that kind of money anyway. I hate car problems.

I know I already said this, but is there anything worse than car trouble?

I dropped Mom off and headed back home hoping that the Mustang would make it home. “Want me to follow you home?” she asked.

“Nah, I’ll be okay. She’s never left me stranded yet.” I was going to go to the local service station early in the morning; it’s where I usually get my oil changed. They don’t do extensive repairs but are pretty good at trouble shooting and would be able to point me in the right direction if major repairs are needed.

I got up early the next morning and headed on over to the service station. Slim, the tall, skinny guy sauntered over to me and asked what the problem was? I told him what it was doing and he asked to take it for a ride. I didn't mind and watched in slight disbelief as he got a wheel (laid rubber) tearing out of the station parking lot. (I had just got new tires.)

I stood and waited for a few tense moments until he came roaring back into the station. "Sounds like the transmission," he said. (Uh, oh!) "I'm just learning about Fords, I'm not a Ford man yet. Let me get Curly over here to take a look at her. He worked over at the Ford place until he got fired. Hey Curly! Come on over here and take a look at this."

Slim proceeded to inform Curly of everything that I had told him and what he had just experienced while driving my car. Curly turned his head to the side, stroked his beard and said, "Yep, sounds like the transmission to me. When was the last time you checked the transmission fluid?" he asked.

"Never," I said. "I thought you guys do that when you change the oil; you know, topping off the fluids and such."

He ignored my statement and told Slim to check the level of the transmission fluid. Slim pulled out the stick and pushed it back in then withdrew it one more time. I became a little concerned as Slim had to squint closer and closer to the dipstick, shook his head and showed it to Curly who also had to squint to see if there was any moisture on the stick.

"Looks like you ain't got no fluid in there at all," Curly said. "That's your problem right there." Slim put in a quart of transmission fluid, slammed the hood down and tore out of the parking lot one more time. He pulled back into the station and with a nod of his head told me I was ready to go.

We walked into the office to settle up the bill and he said it would be four bucks just for the transmission fluid. Shoot, I was so ecstatic that it wasn't the transmission that I gave him a twenty and told him to keep the change. His face lit up and with a big grin told me to have a good one. I climbed back into the Mustang and started heading west; I had an undercover assignment about 30 miles away.

I guess I made it about five miles before the Mustang started to shimmy and shake once again. Maybe, it needed to run for a bit so the fluid could work its way down into the engine. That seemed like a really good idea so I kept going. I went another ten miles or so before I realized that it wasn't getting any better and I better head back to the service station.

Crap!

Dang it!

I pulled back into the service station and both Slim and Curly started shaking their heads. "It's doing the same thing," I said before they could ask.

“Hmm, I don’t think there’s anything else we can do for you here,” Slim said. The next part of the conversation dealt with every mechanic within a 50 mile radius of our small town.