There's a rather loud, boisterous gentleman that works in our mailroom at work.
If you've met me in person, you'll know that this is a pot-calling-the-kettle statement, but bear with me.
But this guy, whom I'll call Martin Lawrence or ML for short, has been pulling me aside recently to tell me how good I look. Today he cornered me by the fax machine and told me again how good I look. He tried to make it look like he was taking me aside and talking to me in a hushed tone, but this guy's hushed tone is like...like...my metaphors suck now...well it's fucking loud. Everyone on my side of the floor heard what he was saying, and I couldn't stop it.
ML: "Laura, I just want to say that you are look-ing GOOOOOD! You change every time I see you. And you know what, girl? People are noticing! You're the talk of the College! They say, 'You know that girl with the big hips that works in education?' - That's how they know you - 'She's really losing weight!' There's one woman who says she wants to get down to your size. Do you know Jane Doe?"
Me: "No, I don't think so." (I actually did, but didn't feel comfortable talking about her.)
ML: "Well she says she would love to look like you. You could be the poster child for these big women here. They're talkin! They say, 'You know Laura?' and I say, 'Yeah what she do?' and they say you're lookin good! Now don't go making no videos..."
ML: "You just keep doin' what you doin'."
It's flattering but pretty embarrassing to have coworkers talk to me about my weight. It's not that I don't appreciate it; but it's just uncomfortable knowing that people are talking about me and judging how I look. Right now it feels nice, since I look good, but to know that I was (and still am) seen as "The Girl with the Big Hips" is a little...saddening?
I know people make opinions and references about a person based on appearance. Hell, there's a girl on my floor I call Sour Boots because she's always scowling and wearing knee-high boots. There's a woman I internally refer to as Trudy Weigle because she looks like that chick from Reno 911.
I know I'm all bottom. I'm okay with that because I have to be. But somehow having other people think of me - and openly discuss me - as the big-hipped one does not make me feel better or spectacular.
If this were an after-school special, I should probably take away from this conversation a lesson on gossip. That you shouldn't judge a book by its cover or discuss the size of its ass, the sourness of its countenance, or its uncanny likeness to a desperate cat lady on a fake police show.
I won't. I'll just be reminded that just because you don't talk to people, doesn't mean they're not talking about you.
So there's that,
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