There’s a girl at the gym who, about a year ago, lost quite a bit of weight and was looking relatively fantastic. Her attitude, however, was less so. In fact, she was downright churlish as a matter of course and surly when anyone paid her a compliment.
After a while, she just sort of disappeared, and I thought it was because her trainer was no longer around, so maybe she followed him to wherever his new job took him. However, when she reappeared at “my” gym recently, several months after her trainer left, with her old ass and thighs in tow, I deduced that she hadn’t followed him at all, but had followed her nose to more than her share of Mr. Softee trucks.
Ordinarily I wouldn’t give a fuck if someone gained back the weight they’d lost. I’d think it was a shame that whatever happened to her, happened, and that sooner or later she would probably lose it again, having once tasted how wonderful it felt to have weight literally lifted from her shoulders. But I must say that today, when I saw this chick with her new trainer, and she was surly and inconsiderate to those around her, I tasted a delicious sort of schadenfreude and had no qualms about internally mocking the amporhous mass of dough that her body has become once again.