When I got off of the subway last night, I was ravenous! Happy Hour with Robert and some of our coworkers had turned into a late night of debauchery.
I didn’t feel like cooking, so I popped into a restaurant near my apartment. The dining room was empty, but the bar where I needed to place my take-out order was packed.
I told the bartender what I wanted and as I waited for my food I noticed that the bar was swarming with older men. Not super old, but too old to be slumming it at a restaurant bar on a Wednesday night. To top it off, they seemed to be under the impression that they were “doing it big” because one older man kept yelling “we’re shutting this place DOWN tonight!”
Anyway, after a few minutes one of the older men approached me and introduced himself as Mike.
“You are the sexiest thang in here…” he whispered, leaning in close.
“Nice and thick…” he looked me up and down.
“They don’t make girls like you anymore…” He licked his lips.
I smiled politely, but said nothing. I could see his wheels turning trying to figure out what approach would stir my interest. He took a deep breath, “you know I love to see a girl like you looking so good because the media would have you believe that a thick-miss like yourself aint pretty.”
Was he REALLY trying to get “deep” on me?! I craned my neck looking for my food order, but the bartender was tied up with other things.
“I feel pretty,” I said flatly.
He paused, taken aback. “Oh, okay. That’s good.” I felt like I had disappointed him. I guess I was supposed to give a sob story about how Beyonce’s body makes me feel bad about myself.
Once I stated that I had a little bit of confidence, Mike had nothing more to say. Before I knew it he was back with his friends.
Everyone has their views on what it must be like to be fat and this isn’t the first time that someone has projected their view on me. People come ready to encourage me and lift my spirits all the time, little do they know– I feel good about myself!
The assumption that weight and low self esteem go hand-in-hand is not always correct. Of course I have my moments of frustration with my body, but I spend most of the day happily focused on other things.
It cracks me up that when Mike found out I thought I was pretty, he walked away. Mike assumed a big girl like me would be so happy for his attention that I’d make an easy conquest, but… He was wrong!
I hate it when people make assumptions… Don’t you?