At Buffalo Wild Wings, I ordered lots of food. Hey, I was super hungry. Plus, I have a tendency to order too much, then complain about being too full halfway in. Yes, annoying. I know.
I’m working on my indecisiveness.
Anyhow, after the waiter left, I said to my guy friend playfully, “OMG. I’ve ordered half the menu. I’m soooo fat.”
His eyes swelled with fear — then shock. If he had pearls, he probably would’ve clutched them.
At first, I thought I had lipstick on my teeth. “What?” I croaked.
“You. Are. Not. FAT!”
I rolled my eyes. “Boy, bye. I am fat.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You are curvy. Trust me, I know fat. You’re just thick.”
“I’m fat. I’m obese. I’m overweight. It’s fine.”
What was interesting was that the “F” word for him was so negative, so vile that he couldn’t possibly equate that nasty attribute to me. He got an A for effort though.
But like him, so many other men and women avoid the word “fat” — or if they do use it, it’s become one of the main cuss words when trying to break someone’s spirit.
Why do we glorify thinness but bash fatness?