Stereotypes can be mean. At this point, every group in the world has at least one stereotype about them, most of which are not true. For example, I am an award winning break dancer despite my Caucasian descent (Editor’s note: No. He can’t dance one bit.). But I feel like Americans, as a whole, have the worst stereotype.
We’re stereotyped as fat.
Don’t get me wrong, we are fat. Very fat, actually. Go to the grocery store and look around someday. You’ll find yourself looking at a person wondering how that manatee got out of the water and why it would need so many pudding cups.
No, I’m not mad that this is our stereotype. I’m mad that we constantly have to hear about. I’m mad that every night there is a news story on where they zoom in on a person’s butt and talk about the rising rate of heart disease.
More importantly, though, I’m mad that people act like it’s our fault. It is absolutely not our fault.
It’s the children’s fault.
Just yesterday, a woman came waltzing into my place of employment under the guise of “needing some help.” The help was selling chocolate for her kid’s school. I politely declined, so she told me there were three different types. One was “just like a Nestle Crunch,” which I’ve heard is the most effective line salesmen have in their arsenal:
“This luxury sedan comes with satellite radio, GPS, and a wood grain interior that looks just like a Nestle Crunch.”
“It looks like a Nestle Crunch? I’ll have three!”
After what seemed like a day and a half of declining the various types of chocolate bars, I did what anyone would do: I ran away screaming like a little girl.
Why is no one fighting for us in this Battle of the Bulge? These organizations are just allowed to wonder the streets with their chocolate goods.
It seemed for a while that we might have a friend in the White House.
When the Obama’s took over control of the White House, the first thing Michelle did was complain about how Laura Bush had decorated the place (she is more into Tuscan Bohemian Mod, whereas Laura let George hang a Moose Head in the dining room). After that, she immediately began to give speeches to anyone who was listening about making our diets healthier.
She began to complain about school food and about fast food. She told me that sitting on my couch with a pizza on one side and nachos on the other is not the way to a healthy lifestyle, which completely turned my life upside down.
She, however, somehow managed to ignore the most villainous organization in America.
Next to Al Quaida, the Girl Scouts are the biggest threat we American’s face. They send their little tiny armies out with armfuls of cookies. Not crappy Oreos, mind you. No, no. They go out with Thin Mints and Tagalongs and Do-Si-Dos. Then, they have the nerve to come right up to your door, the door of the home that shelters you and your children, and all but shovel them directly into your mouth.
Would it be too much for this child army to try to throw some celery sticks our way? They could call them Crunchtastic Stickamajiggers, or whatever they think would help them sell better. Or maybe they could sell granola. Granola is an excellent source of vitamins and people love it. Some granola even comes with chocolate in it. Some is even coated in chocolate. I’m sure that chocolate coated granola is significantly better than cookies (Editor’s note: No it isn’t).
Our health is up to us. There is only one thing we can do.
(Begin playing My Country ‘Tis of Thee now.) We must stand up to those in our paths when we go to the store. We must rise up against the cookie pushers who stand on your front porch and look you square in the eyes, all the while telling you their cookies are “for a good cause” because “they help out the Scouts.” We must slap the cookies out of the hands of our oppressors and tell them “NO MORE Cookies, thank you.” Then, and only then, can we know we have done everything to we can to maintain a healthy lifestyle. Then, and only then, can we be free.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go eat a burger and watch some TV.