Today I was on the E train riding back to Queens. It was rush hour. An Asian lady with her hair pulled back in a pretty chignon looked at me and pointed to her seat. I looked over my shoulder. Maybe there was an elderly woman behind me. No. Just a Guyanese boy with his fitted baseball cap slung backwards. I looked back at the woman. She mouthed, “You. Do you want to sit?”
Then it dawned on me: She thought I was pregnant.
Yes, I have gained some weight, as I tend to do when I get stressed. I also just came back from Trinidad, where my aunt fed me five square meals a day. And my Aunt Flo is due in two days, so I’m a bit bloated. But pregnant?????? I joke sometimes about having a food baby…but never has anyone ever taken one look at my belly and immediately assumed I was with child.
I told her I was fine. On second thought, perhaps I shouldn’t have. We were at 34th Street and I ended up standing the whole way. If I were a dishonest person, I would’ve taken her seat gladly, rubbing my faux baby belly with gratitude.
The moral of the story: I’m joining Weight Watchers on Monday.