Fat

One Man's Web > Where I Live > Fat

Fat out front is fine. Pregnancy is perfectly alright. Thick thighs and broad buttocks bolstered by overcoats are a disaster. Marauding mammaries that angle the upper arms into my ribs and seep against my sides are worse.

It's the train I'm talking about, and fat women.  Three empty seats I can see, and no room on any of them.

Men are bad enough. Newspapers spread, brief cases on laps.  Legs spread wide as though to emphasise the extent of their equipment.  But you can plonk yourself in between and use a little body contact- relax against their thighs and they soon shrink back to their own territory.

But women... big women... they seem to sit there in resentful immovability, threatening to flow over you if you do other than contract into the little space left. Sometimes I feel sad for them.

To be fair, any three people are a firm fit on our trains. If the government were serious about public transport there would be more carriages on the train.  Bulky blokes who think they own the seat wouldn't be a problem.

And I wouldn't be standing up this morning...