Big Fat Woman
Okay, so I'm a big fat woman. Regardless of the fat, I'm big -- about 5' 10" on a good day -- but it's still big enrobed in a delicious coating of fat. Sometimes "I'm a big fat woman" is more or less true, and of course it all depends on your perspective, but I feel pretty fucking confident that by all modern standards I am fat. I do not mean this to self-denigrate, but to state the obvious and take ownership. I fit on planes without the seat belt extender, fit in my seat at the movies, but I'm no waif... not by a long shot. Let's put it like this: If I were single, and I met you on MySpace, and your "Who I Want To Meet" said 'no fatties'... you'd be pretty bummed if I got in your Jetta and tooled off to tapas with you. Thwaap.
So when I am out in public, and people off in their own little worlds walk right into my path and practically knock me down, it takes me by surprise. Not in the common, everyday, "Holy shit, someone just knocked me down!" way that you or your mom or the guy that delivers your Chinese takeout might experience... rather, it's in the "Um, how is it possible that you could not see ME?!? I am a big fat woman!" way. If you're not one, get in touch with your Inner BFW, and you too can be amazed when people half your size practically walk right through you.
In my car, I get it. I have a teeny tiny shitty little compact car. Mine is the car that you think is an empty parking space until you get closer, and then you swear at my car for being so wee. But my car can't help it. Maybe it's its metabolism. My car gets cut off at least a couple of times a day, in part ( believe) because it's small and people don't see it in their blind spot. [Side Note: I also have a super-ineffectual (oxymoron?) car horn, so if someone does cut me off or almost hits me or something, and I honk, they're oblivious. It's the difference between shooting a bullet and throwing it.]
In person, however, it's another story. I may not be a semi, or a tractor trailer, but I'm at least an SUV, or maybe a 1979 Cadillac Coupe DeVille. Pro-fat activists (Fativists?) say that to be fat in modern society is to be invisible... is that it? Have I rendered myself invisible? As I lose weight, is it like the end of Back To The Future where the picture of MJF and Wendie Jo Sperber and Marc McClure fades back into vibrant focus? Will there be a badly-overdubbed and inappropriate rendition of Johnny Be Goode when I hit my goal weight? It's odd to think of myself as being more alive when I'm more compact -- being compact only does so much for my car, after all. At least I'll get an Enchantment Under The sea dance out of it.
