I set up a meeting today, with someone I’ve never met before. We’ll be having lunch at Panera next Tuesday at 12:30. Lot of people at a Panera that time of day, and when she asked how we might recognize each other, I didn’t predict the clothes I’d be wearing.
“I’ll be the Overweight Brunette with a laptop” I replied. She laughed and said we’d find each other.
A friend (we’ve got an open office plan, what a blessing for interdepartmental projects and office gossip!) laughed as soon as I hung up. “I can’t believe you said that!” she exclaimed. But what was I supposed to say? “I’ll be the brunette with two eyes sitting alone.” “I’ll be the woman trying to figure out which salad is marginally more healthy than the others.” “The person who really should have ironed her suit but couldn’t find the time? That’ll be me.”
Short of finding the time to tattoo a peace sign on my forehead, about the only thing that will set me apart from the crowd is the fact that I’m slightly larger than the rest of you. I wear the same clothes, carry the same bag, eat the same food, have the same bags under my eyes. But for a variety of reasons, I pack a few more pounds, which - rather than being a value judgment - simply gives me the option to use “fat” as an self-identifying adjective. It doesn’t mean I’m weak, that I’m gluttonous, that I’m lazy, that I’m mainlining Oreos and snorting lines of bleached, white, carbohydrate-rich flour. It means I’m overweight, and I recognize the fact that you’ll recognize my fat.
My weight doesn’t define me, but it may help you find me.
I just hope we can both acknowledge that without me having to justify my health. Or, you know, wear a red rose in my lapel.
I’m more of a daisy person, truth be told.
hmmm. an interesting thought posited via very humorous story.
reminds me of this one time that i had to fly home from vegas with a very sick (noro virus) significant other. i asked the airline attendant if we could have special permission to be seated first so as to get a strategic seat near the lavatory, and since it was southwest, where seating is every many for himself, the gal was able to accommodate my request. when the other patrons started filing on board, trying to find suitable seats, i became acutely aware of the glances my guy and i were getting. a patron would find his/her way to the back of the plane, spot the empty window seat next to me, scan over to me, register that my size was infringing on their space, and then turn up the aisle looking for a better seat…
i mean, i could have been interpreting the whole situation wrong… my guy was slightly green and perched over an air-sickness bag… really, who wouldn’t want to sit next to that?
but this was the first time that i was appreciative of the truth of the situation. yes. i am fat. my shoulders do take up more room than the average plane seat accommodates. the plain fact of the matter is that i will likely, albeit unintentionally, be in your space. if that’s not ok with you, then find another seat.
and find another seat they all did. it was nice to have the row to ourselves.
Left by belly on January 30th, 2008
I hope i’m not at that Panera on that same day, i’ve been the overweight burnette with the laptop at Panera many a day. I’m amazed at how people react when i make a fat comment. Like i don’t know i’m fat, like its a secret that you don’t speak of. News Flash, NOT A SECRET! I am aware, I’m fat.
Welcome to the Challenge.
Left by Wendi on February 5th, 2008
OMG you crack me up. I swear I’m not stalking you, just liked your writing style and added you to my reader which of course shows me your 10 most recent posts and I’m a big commenter (er or or?)
Left by swizzlepop on February 6th, 2008
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Left by Danielle Eaton on November 13th, 2008