Fat is where it's at

When I walked out of Trader Joe's with my cart full of cheap foreign wine and salty snacks, I saw a behemoth black Cadillac Escalade complete with "SNW DOGS" license plate pull up and park in the handicapped spot right in front of the store. Oh, this out to be good, I thought to myself.

As I looked back to take a second look at the vehicle, I saw no handicapped placard visible. Then out it came, and a rather large woman affixed it to he rear view mirror. Now curious, I stopped and pretended to be reviewing my receipt as I waited for the woman to step from the vehicle. Soon she emerged.

She was fat, I'll give her that. But she seemed to be able to walk fine as she grabbed a shopping cart and walked into the store. There's no doubt in my mind, however, that inside of ten years she'll have one of those three-wheeled electric carts for people who are too fat to walk.

As I headed back to my car, an older thin man with a distinct limp walked from his car clear across the crowded parking lot and into the store.