I just got back from a Christmas party at my husbands base. OH...MY....GOD!!!! The average weight, without including me to bring down the average, had to be an easy 280+. One poor, poor guy had his mother with him. Somehow, my family got punished by God and were forced to sit across from them at the table. She has been on disability for 30 years, lives with her son, and is worse than Ms. White from Carrie. This woman bugged the shit out of her granddaughter, berated her son, and made everyone super uncomfortable.
Her son, oh that poor guy. She completely emasculated him at every given chance. He had to get her food, because she cannot stand "in a line for stand for any amount of time". Seriously, her words right there. Her granddaughter had to go to the bathroom, and she told her that she'd have to wait for her dad to come back to the table to take her. I volunteered because I needed to go anyway. She let me take her. A stranger, take her 4 year old granddaughter to the bathroom. Wow! For some reason she bonded to me, I guess because I was holding a baby the whole time.I finally had enough of her beating her son down, that I had to say something to her. "Lady, your son is a grown man and a soldier. I am sure you are a big, pun intended, reason he joined the military to begin with. Show this poor man some respect and stop bashing him in front of his battalion and especially in front of his daughter.
She gave me a look that I could not decipher if it was death glares, shock, or just didn't understand my non-jabbakian language.
There were some serious butterhuffers in stiletto heals. Their pig feet were already pouring over the shoes, and the immense swelling of their weight on those poor feet were not helping. I was apparently the one the soldiers were more interested in. Not necessarily in a sex way, but they seemed to be more drawn to conversation with me. Poor guys.
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[–] NoviceApproach [S] 0 points 2 points 2 points (+2|-0) ago
HE had to get her food, I did not. Corrected for clarification