The mall is my favorite place to fat shame. Slow moving bovine, weave in between tight spaces and go around. See fats look longingly at the racks, complain loudly how oversized everything is. In the food court, either I'll order something healthy and complain about few choices or I'll get something like a cookie and talk about how utterly sugar loaded it is and I couldn't stand to eat more. One butthurt ham I weaved around wouldn't shut up about it so I told her off. She mentioned her daughter and I said something like "yeah, teach her how to be a bitch." I walked away at a humans pace and saw her behind me with a look of complete failure. All I did was walk and she knew that she couldn't do shit about it.