The hardest decision of a typical working day for me is choosing where I'll have lunch; when the nature of your work is consistent routine and you're merely an assistant in the maintenance of said routine, you're stuck being excited to make one decision for the day. There are too many good options within a reasonable distance of my job, to the point that the grocery store a few blocks away has a beautiful lounge in it to encourage folks to eat there instead of the other twenty or so restaurants nearby.
I was hungry as hell last Monday. I could've had a meal from each nearby spot and still looked for more after wiping the last morsel from my lips. There are sit down places, but since I was walking, I needed somewhere fast. So, basically, it was McDonald's or Burger King. I wanted coffee, so McDonald's, but I wanted to be full after paying for a meal, so Burger King won. The Whopper is too beautiful a sandwich to pass up.
Ordered, waited, and sat down at a table alone. There was a man in a suit a few spots away from me, and I wondered what his day was like to be dressed so nicely and eating in at Burger King by his lonesome. I pulled out my phone to check my email while I picked at my fries. I was in a zone when a man, presence preceded by the funk of a horrifically masculine cologne-like aroma and unjustified bravado, slowed down as he passed me. He looked a bit older than me, short black hair spiked up in a way that meant to conceal its thin constitution, and a tight black shirt designed to show off his pecs. His physique made me question his desire for anything that required his fetching a seat at Burger King.
The change in his tempo alerted me. My eyes shot up from my screen in guarded suspicion, a silent "the fuck are you looking at?" Don't hit on me, don't ask me shit, don't talk to me. I'm on break. No one is paying me for my kindness at the moment.
He sneers. "You ain't gonna eat all that."
Let's pause, because for a moment, I did at the table. Every single time someone has shamed me for being thin, I've died a bit. I am not skinny because I work out too much, I skip meals, or am dealing with an eating disorder. I have an insane metabolism, acid reflux, and stomach issues beyond that which I haven't figured out enough to get around (read: I don't dig doctors). Ta-da! You've gotten "my secret." I don't know why that's earned so many "I hate you's", nor do I understand the envy of being in pain and sick all the damn time simply because "skinny" is a side effect. That's my thin. It is "I'm going to eat this, and if all goes well, it won't feel like I'm getting stabbed as I digest it" thin. It would be much cooler to be, "I eat well, work out a reasonable amount, and can eat a Whopper a reasonable number times a year" healthy.
Healthy, not thin. Whatever my body would look like when I'm not in bed immediately after getting home from work because I ate the wrong thing at lunch.
Where did envy fit into the picture of this buff guy talking out the side of his neck at me? Did it? I wasn't missing his humor - the man seemed genuinely irritated at the fact that my size two self was sitting at Burger King with a Whopper in front of me. After he spoke, he had a cavalier look in his eye, continuing his slow stride by my table. He looked strangely pleased with himself, which infuriated me. What claim did he have to this space, to critique my body, and what I am able to do? What made him decide that this was a necessary comment? If the only thing he wanted was to put someone down for the day, his receding hairline and contoured gym tits would have to find another victim. I walked seven blocks for this burger, and I was going to goddamn enjoy it. I didn't deserve his shit today.
I politely responded: "Fuck you."
The "f" in "fuck" lasted an eternity. He knew what was going to be said long before he heard it. He looked surprised, but continued on. I supposed he was looking for a shrinking violet. Nope. I smiled at him as I crumpled the wrapper on my tray, a doubling down on my earlier expressed sentiments.
I got told I couldn't finish the burger other people told me I needed to eat. Body shaming is fucking stupid.
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