The world wants me to be fat

I think everybody around me wants me to be fat to make themselves feel
better. Anytime I go anywhere, the "food" person always makes sure that
I get more than a normal helping of everything. I admit, it doesn't
take much for me to cave, but it doesn't help when someone scoops the
last of "you name it" on my plate at the end of every meal just because
its hardly worth saving that much. I was going to have the standard
turkey dinner downstairs today, but figured I'd skip the gravy, before I
could say anything, the guy behind the counter with a little wink, gave
me extra turkey loaded the gravy on everything -- do people not
understand that doing this to me is not doing me a favor because I'm
never going to make him redo the plate. Then just a few minutes ago,
the woman that sits across from me made sure I knew that the Target by
my house is selling huge bags of peanut M&M's for 75 cents -- now
explain to me how I'm supposed to drive by there on my way home with all
of that chocolate and peanutty goodness for pennies on the pound? That
would be like Lange driving by a liquor store selling Copenhagen and old
Milwaukee for $1 each.