I took the one in the 2-seater for a few reasons:
- I couldn't take seats 2 or 4 because it's a tight squeeze and it's the public transit equivalent of riding "bitch."
- The first seat has a little more "hangover" space, so the occupant can skooch over to accommodate a larger bum.
- If I take the second seat, it looks like tight squeeze, but the person in seat 1 has the opportunity to take advantage of the "hangover" zone if he or she is uncomfortable.
Unfortunately, seat one was taken by an Aryan blonde man, so I took seat two. Because he had the opportunity to skooch, I felt like I was doing him a favor. I had that smug sense of satisfaction that comes with doing something right, like recycling, taking reusable bags to the grocery store, and throwing styrofoam cups at Greenpeace activists.
Plus, I fit in the seat. The guy didn't even have to skooch.
But what did he do? After doing the obligatory huffing and sulking after a fat person invites herself to sit next to a person, he sat there for a moment. And then he bolted. He stood up, moved 2 feet forward, and stood for the rest of the 10 minute ride.
Bitch do what?
I was kind of put off by this. A little pissed, a little hurt. I moved into his vacated position and skooched as far as possible. There was plenty of room for a person of normal BMI, especially a no-hipped male. As you can guess, I spent the entire ride thinking of shit to say to this guy:
- Fine. More room for my bags.
- (Meekly) There's room for you now...
- (Haughtily) There's room for you now.
- A bit spoiled as a Hitler Youth, weren't you?
Finally I settled on the best response:
- I hope you get fat.
So simple. So true. So raw. What better punishment for someone who doesn't like fat people? I hope he gets fat so that he can see how much it sucks to choose a seat. To see how it feels to be imposing. To feel guilty for taking up space. To feel bitter when people choose not to sit with you. To start wishing it on other people.
I hope your partner gets fat. I hope you still love her/him anyway, but if you don't, I hope that you have an affair, get a venereal disease, get a divorce, lose your money, end up alone. The possibilities are endless!
I was getting so charged up that when Britney Spears' Slave 4 U popped up on the iPod, I started changing the lyrics to suit my needs:
All you people look at me like I'm no little girl
But did you ever think it would be okay to eat Karamel Sutra Swirl?
Always saying tubby girl don't step into Sam's Club
Well I'm just trying to find out why cuz eatin's what I love
eat it eat it eat it eat it oooh, eat it eat it eat it eat it oooh
I'm a slave 4 food...
He was still standing when I got off the bus, and I sooooooo wanted to whisper my zinger to him. How ballsy would that be? How antagonizing? How useless.
Instead I offered a curt excuse me as I brushed past him.
So there's that,