Watching the Weight Watchers

Uncomfortable is the single word I can think of to describe the Weight Watchers meeting I was sitting in on Saturday afternoon. For a program geared towards making heavy people feel more at ease and able to discuss their problems with food, this was a surprise. The chairs we sat in were lined in four neat rows, but several of them were wobbly and pre-historic-looking. The room we were in was dank and the walls were a dull eggshell color. I arrived early, and for the first ten minutes I sat by myself in the corner seat on the back row. Ten minutes before the meeting was supposed to start a heavy-set Hispanic woman sat down next to me and had to catch her balance because the chair rocked forward dangerously. She quickly moved the chairs around and turned back to look at me with a grin.

“That’s all I need today, to break another chair.”

I smiled back even though I wasn’t sure how to take her carefree attitude about being fat. Personally, it would horrify me to physically break a chair, or even lose my balance and fall out of one in public.

Her name was Liz and she was forty-nine years old. She was the mother of twin boys, both recently graduated from college. She’d caught her husband cheating on her six months ago and due to the upcoming wedding of one of her sons, had decided it was her priority to look better than her husband’s girlfriend for the ceremony in August. She had started at 334 pounds and was currently at 271 pounds. I learned all of this within the first five minutes of meeting Liz, before any of the other “watchees” arrived for the meeting.

As more people showed up I began to see a pattern. They would usually test a chair before they sat in it and then they’d pretend to be busy staring at their weight watcher’s diaries until Liz addressed them. Then, upon being invited into the conversation, they would make a few comments about what a moron Liz’s ex-husband was, and how their mother-in-law was coming in the morning and they just knew she’d expect fried chicken on her first night there—a big dilemma for someone on weight watchers.

When the woman running the meeting, Tammy, arrived (ten minutes late) Liz muttered under her breath.

“Oh it’s her,” she looked at me, “We don’t like her, she never sets the scale right.”

Tammy was indeed adjusting the dial on her scale and getting her folder together. I drew a heart on my notepad and waited for her to begin the meeting, now fifteen minutes late. The first order of business was to introduce yourself if you were a first-time attendee. I didn’t make any moves to do so, but Liz put a hand on my shoulder.

“This is Genna, she’s graduating from UNCW in May and this is her first meeting.”

I cringed and gave a nervous laugh. Everyone was looking at me. Tammy nodded.

“Okay, anyone else,” she paused, “Well, then let’s jump on the scale first today, then we’ll talk about a few things.”

As most of the people approached the scale, they fidgeted nervously with their hair or jewelry. Not Liz though. Liz got on the scale fearlessly.

“268,” Tammy said in a board voice, “Good work, Liz.”

Liz sat down next to me again, “It’s really 265. She puts the scale up 3 pounds like we can’t see the numbers ourselves—your turn.”

I looked at her dumbly before I realized I was supposed to get on the scale next—something I had expected newcomers to have to do, but not anticipated because I’d considered myself an observer. I considered walking past the scale and out of the room but decided against it because my purse strap was caught around one of the legs of Liz’s chair. I stepped on that scale and every person in that room knew how much I weighed ten seconds later. I was mortified, even though I’d lost forty pounds since starting my own private program in January.

After everyone was weighed, Tammy went over several new recipes in the weight watcher program, gave some healthier alternatives for snacking, and told everyone to have a nice Easter; she’d be out of town next weekend. As the room started to disperse Liz nudged me.

“Next weekend will be better. Jean will be here. She’s good.”

I’m at a loss as to what to say about this experience. I thought having a support group in a weight loss program would be a helpful thing, but apparently this is not so in every case. I’m sure that all weight watcher meetings aren’t as unhelpful as this one was, but I can’t say I’m in a hurry to find out. Liz was the only person in that room that seemed comfortable with the situation and for all of her support for her peers, the only thing she got in return was a “good work” from Tammy.

Needless to say, I think that the majority of this (eight person) group was as uncomfortable as I was, and I definitely wish Liz the best, but won’t be seeing her anytime soon.