"Fat Free"
He jokingly called out "fatty," but I heard him scream that I belonged in some sick porno flick where the fat girl slops up rib meat off some trimmed frat boy's chest. I wasn't sure if tears or laughter were appropriate at this point. I just stood there under the harsh fluorescent lights of the Carrollton Home Depot break room with a half-eaten peanut butter and chocolate brownie containing walnuts protruding from my mouth. My inner fat kid couldn't decide whether or not to finish the brownie or waste it by throwing it back up on the poorly laid laminate floor. I guess if I did upchuck it, the resulting mess would match the theme of the room- shit. Shit-green walls that resembled my infant son's dirty diaper after eating peas the night before. As I attempted to control the knee-jerk reaction of my stomach, I searched the room for something, anything to focus on to avoid the shell-shocked expression of my fellow co-workers. I glance at the Magic Chef coffee pot bought down the street at Lowe's looked as though it hadn't been cleaned since Bernie and Arthur founded the company resembling a returned 2-year-old toilet. This only churned my stomach more. A local newspaper from the previous week peppered the floor and twisted the knife in my state of depression. I sat down in a chair that straddled a corner of the room, finished the brownie hanging out of my mouth, and chased it with some fat free milk.
Wow, that's a really edgy scene, Ashley. Well done. These are very difficult situations to try and render in language, but you do a decent job there. Now just strip out the fancy diction--protruding, attempted, hanging out of my mouth, etc. Try, in other words, to do away with language that seems to be trying too hard to be "poetic" and overly precise.
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