I used to work with a woman who constantly talked about herself all the time. Any subject anyone brought up around her quickly devolved into something about her. She found herself the most fascinating person alive, and let everyone know it. It got so that when I saw her coming my way, I would quickly find something to attend to immediately.
Evidently at some point in her life she had been overweight, and over the past years had lost the weight by becoming a vegan, plus exercise and so on. Great—good on her, and anyone who does this; it’s a major achievement and something to be proud about.
She obviously adored her new smaller self, and let everyone know it. If she wore a new sweater to work, she always pulled the sleeves way down to her fingertips and prettily complained how this was the smallest size she could find and still it was ‘just too biiiiiiig!’
I so wanted to say to her, “yes, we get it: you’re a size 000 and everything is just tooooo big for itty-bitty little teeny-tiny you.” I once made the mistake of complimenting her on a ring she wore one day. Her reply was “it’s a size three!”
She would often pontificate to other people (usually at lunch, where she would look disparagingly at their food choices) about the vegan lifestyle and how wonderful it was, and how it changed her life. Not surprisingly, people began to avoid her and sneak off to the local fast food joint.
Look, making a major life style change is to be admired. I have nothing against vegans per se, just the ones who verbally beat others to death with their convictions. All of her self-congratulatory rhetoric about being a vegan got old pretty fast. I wonder if she ever noticed the herd of people running to get away from her.
I promise that, should I ever become a vegan, I will just shut up about it.