‘The nerve of some people’

There are a couple of things that you just don’t say to a lady. Never comment on what she’s eating and never, ever make a remark about her weight.

Well I experienced those two “nevers” last week within a day of each other.

First, I was at the Legg Mason Tennis Classic tournament in Washington, D.C. ,last weekend ready to volunteer my time during the annual event.

Actually because I volunteer, I get to see all of the matches that I want for free.

Sweet!

As part of my duties, I usually drive the tennis players to and from the hotel and tennis site.

This year, I tried something different. I spent most of my time in the player hospitality lounge, where the players prepare for their matches by surfing the Net or watching television.

My job was to answer any questions; for example, if they needed to know the scores of the matches in progress, I would call the media center for them.

Easy stuff.

So before I started, I needed to grab my bright, yellow Legg Mason Tennis Classic T-shirt and credentials so the players knew whom to go to with questions.

I walked to volunteer check-in and asked for my usual size, small. On the other side of the table was a bony, elderly woman, who gave me the once over before telling me that a small fits her “kind of snug.”

I didn’t see that one coming.

After rolling my eyes at her, I grabbed the small myself and put it on over the T-shirt I was wearing to prove to her that obviously I knew my size.

I’m still not sure why I had to prove it, but I felt better once I slid it over my head and down my torso.

The nerve of people, right?

The other incident occurred just one day prior to my Legg Mason encounter.

Last Thursday, a friend and I went out to dinner after work to one of our favorite restaurants.

We ordered a half order of wings and split an order of fries.

That’s five wings apiece and a few fries between us.

As we were about to eat, some random dude leans over and says, “That’s a lot of food you got there.”

To our surprise, this guy was about 6 feet 2 inches tall and weighed more than 350 pounds.

He should have been the last person to say something like that.

My friend promptly informed him that he was basically out of line and that we were clearly splitting two small orders.

The nerve.

The mood sort of lightened after he proceeded to tell us about his recent weight-loss surgery.

I guess he was trying to strike up a conversation so he could tell us that he’d lost a ton of weight with the help of major surgery.

Whatever. It was too late for small talk.

Barely listening to his babble, I shrugged him off, turned my back to him and proceeded to enjoy my meal.

In the end, it’s all about eating, drinking and being merry.