I WAS GORDITA'D

Oh the horrors and woes... It has been over a week, and my body still goes into convulstions just thinking about it.

The day started off like anything other commute home. I stood out on the platform with many of the usual cast of characters, who as usual abused me and hurt my feelings for no good reason at all. The train pulled up and we all boarded orderly and in a double file line, with one line entering to each side of the train. I, as the generous commuter I am, took a seat in the middle five seater and sat all of the way to the inside, as to make sure there was an easily accessible seat for another one of my fellow commuters. On the very outside seat of this same grouping sat the enemy of all things both chocolate and tasty, Kobe the Gordita. Right behind me was the Middle Gordita(MG); fat in her own rights, but no two seat filler. She came to sit down as well, and to my deathly fears, instead of MG sitting next to me, the unimaginable happened, KOBE MOVED OVER NEXT TO ME!!

Oh my god was it horrible. First I had to see the solar-eclipsing ass coming right for me. Then as I avoided being turned into an ultraflat pancake, I realized that there was a fate worse than death... death by listening to Gordita conversation. Mostly I think I survived by praying to the great and merciful god, and swearing to smite all who piss me off.... I mean that I would help all who I have the ability to aid. The most humiliating part of the ordeal was when Kobe got uncomfortable (I mean how hard is it to be comfortable in only one seat, when your ass is the size of a small rest area) and she went to move her leg, then instead ended up doing an atomic fat drop of her excessive thighs onto my poor crushed leg. But then finally god smiled on me, and East Chicago finally blared through the annoucements, and they mustered up the near Jovian gravity to get that cellulite off of the seats and in motion towards the exit doors. Somehow I survived, and the world is a better place for it.