Three Types of Weight Watchers

After attending Weight Watchers Meetings for the last month or so, I've realized that there are three distinct types of people that attend these meetings.

1. The average joes. These are the people just like me and my WW buddy. While not overweight, we're not underweight. We know that the mid-thirties spread is just around the corner, and we're not yet mature enough to tell each other to "put the donut down." We eat arrogantly and constantly promise ourselves that "tomorrow, I'll exercise." We actually need a stranger to put us on a scale each week and give us a scornful look when we've gained 2/10ths of a pound. We are the worst possible candidates for any sort of nutritional program because we are so damn good at justifying what we put in our mouths. We have yet to admit that we have a problem.

2. The attention whores. These are the folks that are, clearly, far too thin to be at Weight Watchers. They sit smugly at the meetings in their tiny little clothes that are shiny and attention-getting. They spend the meetings eagerly raising their hands and volunteering information like, "You know, if you get on your ellipticle machine and crank it up to 10, you'll burn 1,100 calories in an hour." They like the fact that all the other women are bitching about how thin they are. In some sick and twisted way, they find pleasure in being hated by others.

3. The co-dependants. These are my favorites. These are the folks who are truly dedicated and they show up to the meetings religiously - often attending multiple meetings in a week. And they do it, Every. Single. Week. They tell the group how they go out to dinner and take their very own measuring cups and spoons, and some sort of spork like utensil that goes above and beyond the call of duty because it offers a knife feature too. They often speak of that excruciating activity called, "exercise." Yet they only loose 2/10ths of a pound every single week. These are the women that I think secretly eat Little Debbies and Ho-Ho's, just to stall their weight loss. For to be without a Weight Watchers Meeting might be worse than death itself.

Sometimes, even I am ashamed of myself. My sheer mockery of the human life around me is clearly a sign of my truly shallow, bitter, and bitchy character. I think I'll go console myself with some Ho-Ho's now.