Just checked into a Sleep Inn. Stood by the front desk for a long time, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting. Tapping my fingers, jingling my car keys. Why is this taking so long? What the hell? Damn, why …
Then the manager appeared.
She was beyond fat. Beyond enormous. This is merely a guess, but I’ll say she probably weighs, oh, 600 pounds. Perhaps the largest person I’ve ever seen.
And I felt ashamed.
Not for her, but for me. For tapping my fingers and jingling my keys. This woman could barely walk, and I’m acting as if I’m in a rush. What for? So I can get to my room and type this blog?
We make fun of overweight people all the time. We laugh, judge, mock, condemn. I do it, too. But to walk in someone else’s shoes—or at least to try and empathize with that walk—is a powerful thing.
