Cookie Monster

Rebecca* and I met at the gym. We'd seen one another at Weight Watchers earlier that morning and formally met while dropping off our babies in the gym's childcare. In my opinion, a normal first meeting someone conversation goes something like this:
Her: "You work out here too? I recognize you from Weight Watchers!"
Me: "Yeah! I love ww (or gym)!"
Her: "Cool. My name is Rebecca. I guess I'll be seeing you around!"
Me: "Sounds great! I'm Casey."

Our meeting went like this:
"You going to Body Pump?" says a random vaguely familiar stranger as I hang my baby's diaper bag on the wall. Startled, I reply "yes."

"Yeah, I go every Tuesday" she said "I've done Weight Watchers before. I'm a lifetime member. Just back to lose the baby weight. You know you should really..."
Ahhh... Weight Watchers. That's where I know you from. I noncommittally nod my head as I barely listen to her litany of things I "should" be doing. She drones on while I scan the room for a place to sit down and nurse my baby so that I can get to class on time. Why is this woman standing between me and the chairs? And more importantly, why is she standing between me and the door?!

"Body Pump is great. How many times a week do you go?" she asks.
"Oh, only Tuesdays" I reply "on Thursdays I do Body Attack."
"Well, you really should be going to Body Pump at least three times a week" she says, shaking her head at me in disdain.
"That is what they recommend" I reply "But I've got two days a week to work out and I'm not giving up either class. So that's what I'm doing. My friend and I are training for our first mudrun. I'm working on getting ready for that."
"Mudrun?" she asks "That will be no big deal. I do them all of the time."
As she launched into a new diatribe about the need for me to add more Body Pump into my schedule, I wondered what her name was and how to avoid her in the future. "Well," she finally said, "you should really put your baby down and get to Body Pump or you're going to be late."

The Stage Five Clingers always know where to find me. Over the next few weeks I had a few more Close Strange Encounters of the Third Kind with Rebecca.

Standing outside an exercise class waiting for it to begin I was startled when Rebecca was suddenly right in front of me. Can she apparate? Instead of a normal "hello" or "how are you?" Rebecca looked me straight in the eye and said, "Well, I totally lost it last night and ate a ton of cookies."
With what I hoped was a sympathetic look on my face I nodded and said, "Ugh. I know what that's like. Just got to put it behind you though and get back on track."
Rebecca went on, "Yeah. I went to Sam's and bought a big thing of cookies and just ate the entire thing. The whole time I kept imagining you were there and telling me not too and I just kept saying F*&% you, Casey! F*&% you! and cramming more and more cookies into my mouth. I didn't even want them anymore, but I just kept eating them and yelling at you."

Oh.

And that was when I realized I had once again unwillingly (but not unwittingly) befriended a lunatic.



*Name has been changed to protect the innocent. Which in this case... is me.