Open letter to Sandra in 3C

Dear Sandra,

You? Are a bitch. I normally wouldn't call someone with whom I've never exchanged more than 30 seconds of conversation a bitch, but I feel that it's justified in this case. Don't get me wrong, I don't begrudge you your right to feel uncomfortable sitting next to me, despite the fact that you sat perfectly normally in your seat for the entire flight and didn't come close to touching me even once. I understand completely. You're probably not exposed to someone of my generous BMI on a regular basis, and I'm cool with that. But if you were indeed not a bitch, you would not have felt the need to text one of your probably similarly bitchy friends about the "giant fat lady" sitting next to you no more than a minute after she sat down.

Please allow the Giant Fat Lady to offer you some words of wisdom.

If you are going to be the kind of bitch that does such a thing as complaining about someone you've never met within a minute of laying eyes on them, you may want to make sure you don't do it in full view of the person you're complaining about.

Oh, and if the Giant Fat Lady calls you on your bitchiness, don't play coy, like you have no idea what she's talking about... because then you've just sealed your fate not just as a bitch, but a stupid bitch at that.

By the way, one of the reasons this Giant Fat Lady flies Midwest Airlines is so her blubber doesn't fall on to your side of the armrest. My blubber was very well contained within my skin, my clothing, and my side of the armrest, thankyouverymuch.

Oh, and seriously? I know you were probably just exaggerating, but if sitting next to a Giant Fat Lady for a 1.75-hour flight is seriously your worst nightmare, chances are you're not only a bitch, not only a stupid bitch, but you, Sandra, are a miserable, stupid, no-imagination-having cunty bitch who has no friends and loves nobody but yourself, and this Giant Fat Lady has a better life than you will ever allow yourself the pleasure of knowing. I mean, seriously... parents dying in a freak accident, significant other walking out on you (maybe even for a GFL such as myself), children getting stabbed in the hallway of their school, nuclear holocaust?? All much worse nightmares than sitting next to a GFL for two hours in first class-size leather seats on an airplane.

After getting off our flight, this Giant Fat Lady met up with her uxorious husband (no no, you can look it up... I'll wait), who whisked her off to a wonderful dinner, then home to make mad, passionate love to celebrate her homecoming. You were on a business trip, and my guess is that you cried yourself to sleep in your hotel room, wondering why nobody loves you.

And due to your incredible self-absorption, I doubt you'll ever come to realize the answer, even if it slapped you in the face.