Wednesday, February 28, 2007

TheCompanyIDietFor, or You Big Fat Fatty Fat Fat

Oh, my friends and blogees. I am about to tell you a story so bizarre I'm sure you won't believe it, but I promise you it is true. I also promise you that I know I should not be telling you this story.

See, even though I work for TheCompanyIWorkFor, and have never identified this rather large corporation as anything other than TheCompanyIWorkFor, I still have this fear that someone somewhere will see it, figure it out, and I'll be on the business end of a multi-million dollar lawsuit. Or that one of you kind people, who actually knows the name of this rather large corporation, will in casual conversation blurt out, "Oh, that Bet. She works for [actual name of TheCompanyIWorkFor], you know." And so all their secrets will be spilled, and I'll be at that same business end of a multi-million dollar lawsuit. Or they'll just dispatch some unsavory character to break my knees.

However.

However, there are two things that are standing behind me, pushing me into telling you all this. The first is that it's simply such a great (and bizarre) story I can not but tell it, and the second is that, and as I tell the story you'll realize this too, it's apparently all going to become very public anyway, and so what's a little preview between friends and blogees.

Last week was a very hurried and busy week at work, owing to the fact the boss took a rather lengthy vacation. And one day during all this un-fun and frivolity, the UPS man delivered a box to the old TheCompanyIWorkFor offices. This is not an odd occurrence, for we are often sent boxes with supplies, posters, promotional crap, and the like. This box had a big ol' logo on it, and said something I didn't quite understand, but also didn't have time to think much about. But one of the words in the logo was "pound." I didn't open the box, didn't care enough about it to make the effort, and somewhere in the back of my head I was thinking, "Oh, the big TCWIF promotional trip this year must be to London." Pound. London. Get it?

And so yesterday about mid-day the boss strolled in, we all got caught up on vacation news, and sometime after the Monday Morning Rush died down, she found that box and opened it up. And so commenced the gigglefest that went on even as the three of us were walking out the door to our cars at 5:00.

Because "pound" had nothing to do with foreign currency, and had everything to do with personal heft.

There were all manners of goodies inside this box. There was a t-shirt encased in a little plastic bag, a poster, a few other items to be discussed later, and an explanation. Apparently TheCompanyIWorkFor has decided to climb on the "Let's Get Healthy" bandwagon and ride it for all it's worth.

It's hard to explain how this all went there in our little office. Puzzled looks as we went through the items, suppressed snickers, and the discussion of, well, I hate to keep saying it, but of just how bizarre this was. TheCompanyIWorkFor has nothing to do with the health/beauty/personal fitness & wellness industry. And we couldn't help but go flimsily weak at the knees over these items. "TheCompanyIWorkFor thinks we're fat! They don't want fat employees! They're going to make us lose weight!" We saw it all coming - we'd have to weigh ourselves, go on some sort of team quest for thinness, send our results to field managers, and risk the embarrassment of frowns and pointed fingers when we were the low men (or low fat men) on the totem pole at the end of it all. TheCompanyIWorkFor, and I've always been rather proud of this, has been from my experience one of the really liberally-hiring corporations out there. Many women, people of color, people of gayness. But no fat employees in our company!

And it didn't help matters any when we pulled the t-shirt out of the box, there in its little plastic bag, and the sticker on it said, "X-Large." See? They know! I told the boss we needed to send it back saying, "Sorry, this t-shirt's too small for any of us. Got any size 2X?"

But as we started reading the printed material that came with all this, things took a rather ugly and hilarious turn.

This stuff wasn't for us. It was for our clients!

TheCompanyIWorkFor doesn't want fat clients!

For in and amongst all these goodies were posters these boobheaded higher-ups think we will actually display in our offices, posters with some famous dieting hoohah, saying, "TheCompanyIWorkFor wants you to get in shape" or some such thing. And the little weight-loss goodies are to be given out as client gifts.

And just in case (as I mentioned in something of a hyena-like heckling scream in the office) our clients don't hate us enough as it is, there in that box were some sample postcards we can send to our clients inviting them into the office so we can give them these diet tips and items. I want to be at this meeting: "OK girls, we'll meet at 7, shake up some martinis, and get just tiddly enough to make a big list of our fattest clients."

Actually, the boss had it right, and gave us the biggest laugh of the day (and my blog title), when she said, "Why don't they just put on these cards, 'Get your fat ass in here and pick up some diet tips. If you can fit through the door. You big fat fatty fat fat.'"

Now, I generally wear make-up, eye and otherwise, to work, but yesterday I shouldn't have bothered. Because I spent the day laughing so hard at all this that tears rolled down my face, and I sat for hours wiping them away with a Kleenex. Saying, "You big fat fatty fat fat."

OK. Let's get to the business end of all this. I'm a plus-sized gal. Yes, I've lost something of a whole person over the past 2½ years, but I'm still struggling and still not thin. So I feel I'm the perfect person to tell TheCompanyIWorkFor this little nugget of wisdom. People don't like to be told they need to lose weight! They don't like to hear it from their doctors, their spouses, their best friends, or random strangers on the street rude enough to say it. I don't like it now, and I was mortified by it when I was a whole person larger. And people definitely don't want to hear it from TheCompanyIWorkFor, who they pay money to every year and would just as soon have stay out of their personal affairs.

And speaking of business ends, I couldn't help but marvel all afternoon, sitting there cackling and crying and wiping away tears and repeating, "You big fat fatty fat fat," at the amount of money TCIWF must be pouring into this little venture. The posters, gifts, t-shirts, corporate-mailed postcards, and surely (watch for them!) national TV commercials. And lawsuits, probably.

And I guess this means we have to dispense with the big basket of free candy in our office, which is, I truly believe, the only reason people come in there anyway.

And once this little public service extravaganza hits the national press, for I can bet the Poderosa our offices won't be signing up to send out those postcards, I'm going to just count the days until some poor soul blusters into our little place and mentions how three women who look like we do can have the nerve to offer them diet tips. I hope I can adopt a sympathetic look and explain it wasn't our own personal idea, and not fall on the floor to my knees laughing and asking for the box of Kleenex.

So keep an eye out for the campaign. You'll know it. A rather large corporation who has nothing to do with weight loss offering to help you get in shape. Then be sure to go by your local branch of this rather large corporation and get your free diet goodies.

You big fat fatty fat fat.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners. So, what kind of birthday party did you all have for me?
- Guys, I'm going to something I've never ever done in acromania. I'm declaring an all-out tie in acro. Not only can I not pick between the three acroers, I can't pick the best of their acros. Some damn fine acroing this week, and you all deserve praise.
- Enterer and Winner #1 is LilyG, with her "Fearless Leader roasting over hot gases," but all her acros rocked.
- Enterer and Winner #2 is Kellie (with an ie), with her "Ferd Lionel. Rockin! Oh Hackensaws! Guitars!" which is a party I wouldn't miss, and all her acros rocked as well.
- Enterer and Winner #3 is Michelle, with her "Falan Larkin returns, orally hickeying guests." Falan Larkin. Cute, and all her acros rocked as well.
- Thanks, guys, you all did extremely well!

1 Comments:

Blogger Lily said...

Now, I'm sure the reason they made up those things are because, well, the big fatty fat fats just never realized they were fat. It has never occurred to them. It's going to be a huge revelation. They're going to smack themselves on their heads and say "doh!, that's what it is. I thought they just were making all the chairs and doorways smaller".

Soon they're also going to be putting out the cards telling 40-year old single childless women that well, they're single and have no kids. And that maybe their biological clock is ticking. Because I'm sure that's going to be another revelation.

11:02 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home