So I was at work last night, and I took this lady and her son's order. As I handed her change to her, she noticed my hands were shaking. I have a thing called (I think) Tremors, where the nerves in my hands are always working at least a little, and they shake constantly. Not to the point where it's a problem, and really not at Parkinson's level. More just an inconvenience and sometimes a point of frustration when I'm trying to do things.
Anyway, she notices and asks if anyone's prayed for me. At first I said "well, maybe" since my mom's side of the family is fairly religious. Then she gave me this 6-minute spiel about how praying for people is what she does and that the blood of Jesus would heal me completely if she prayed for me. Then she asked if she could pray for me right then and there.
Now, I didn't want some kind of Baptist revival in the middle of the deli, so I thanked her and told her it wasn't something I believed in myself. Just a really odd thing to happen at work.
I can certainly relate... I am a hefty, tall guy, and recently when I was doing my grocery shopping, I noticed that there was this tiny elderly woman who was trying to pick up a sixpack of beer from a stack that was higher than she was. Now, being an ex-boy scout and generally someone who believes in being helpful, I went to her, put down my groceries and lifted a sixpack down for her.
She thanked me and as we went to the cashiers (who were about six feet away), she started going "Oh, you know if you were a little leaner, you would be so healthy, such a fine young man you would be. You know, just a little leaner, a little lither" on and on and on.
Now, I know full well I am fat. Not big-boned, not having a glandular problem. Fat. I'm working on it, I know about it. I'm getting enough grief about it from my mom (who lost a lot of weight in her fifties because of health problems), from school, from my doctor, from every frickin' Greatest Loser-or-similar show on telly. I don't need to be told that by some old lady I helped out in the store.
God, I was so close to telling her to shut up and putting the sixpack back on the stack. I guess she didn't realize it wasn't her place to start telling me about "how healthy I would be if I were a little lighter".