Triggered some fatties simply by existing Yesterday night I went to one of my favorite local coffee shops. It's open almost 24 hours and it's always filled with people. One such group of people happened to be a knitting or crocheting group. They were all women, or formerly women, and about 25-60. It's really hard to tell with fats. Out of the entire group of eight, four were super mega morbidly obese, two were bordering that, one was an infamous "smallfat", and the last was human. I ignored their presence and sat across the room, sipping on my tea and getting some work done. About an hour had passed and I watched as the fats struggled to pick up dropped knitting needles, yarn, crochet hooks, etc. This often warranted the human to walk across the floor and pick it up for them. However, the obeasts didn't seem to have a problem when it came time for them to order another round of beetus drinks with cookies and slices of cake. This was at midnight! How could they be ordering frozen fraps and desserts? I just did my best to ignore them but on my way out, I stopped to look at a bulletin board that was in their area. I overheard the fats bickering. They were tormenting the only human in the group about what she was making. It started off with how they didn't understand how she was already finished and why she had used so much less yarn than them and how lucky she was that she didn't have to spend as long as they did on their garments. Then one of the planets spoke up and started teasing her and asking if what she had made was for a child. The other hams all laughed and snorted over this. The human tried to defend herself and that's when the biggest ham said it "No grown woman is going to be able to fit into that." I decided to turn around and check out the garment in question, the human looked slightly taken aback by the fats, looked down at her garment, then looked at me before pointing and saying "She could fit into it. Easily!" Eager to disprove some hams I spoke up as if I hadn't been listening the entire time. I said something along the lines of, "Excuse me? Oh do you need me to try on something for you? I wouldn't mind. My mom sews all the time and I model for her a lot." The clothing article turned out to be some sort of sleeveless hoodie kind of like this. I slipped it on easily over my outfit. I was in a skin tight black crop top and a skater style skirt, so I was probably already triggering them with my exposed stomach. I twirled around in the hoodie thing and loudly remarked that I really liked it because it was so loose on me that it felt like a comfy baggy sweater. All of the fats were pretty much giving me death glares. It was glorious. I didn't even mind because all of those death glares combined couldn't add up to the early death they were eating themselves into.