Grocery Empowerment

This was originally published on my website on April 3, 2000

I just had one of the most bizarre/humiliating/empowering experiences of my life... at the grocery store.

At first I thought it was me. I thought that perhaps I'd accidentally tripped and fallen into the Twilight Zone, or stumbled into the supermarket on "Insult a Stranger" day.

Then I decided that someone must have pinned a "Help! I'm fat and I can't get thin!" sign on my back as a late April Fool's joke. (Joke being on them, of course, since I think I'm pretty damn hot just the way I am thankyouverymuch)

But, there was no sign to be found anywhere on my person. And so I was left to wonder what, exactly, is up with the Universe!

Those of you who know me (or have seen my pictures here, for that matter) know that I am not a size 6. Or 12. Or 14. What I *am* is perfectly comfortable with myself. I wear v-neck shirts and plunging necklaces, I wear skirts with slits well up my thigh, I dye my hair, I voice my opinions, I walk with my shoulders back and my head up. In short, I live my life out loud and make no apologies therefore.

Now, I suppose one could argue that by living my life without shame or excuse I'm inviting "helpful" comments. I don't agree with that argument... but I suppose I can see those who think that way. But nothing can justify the following 4 conversations (all in the same day!):

As I 'm looking over the ice cream selection, trying to decide between Coffee and Chocolate....
Random Woman #1: ::taps me on the shoulder:: The Lean Cuisine and Weight Watchers are over there... ::gesturing across the aisle::
Me: Thanks, but I find that hot fudge sauce doesn't go particularly well on Lean Cuisine.
Random Woman #1: ::walks away huffily::
Random Guy #1: ::taps me on the shoulder:: She's a bitch, *I* don't think you need Lean Cuisine.
Me: Uh... thanks.

Later, as I'm picking through the produce section, looking for a decent head of Romaine...
Random Woman #2: ::next to me, looking at celery:: Do you think that whole negative-calorie thing is true with celery ::turning to look at me:: Oh, nevermind, I guess you wouldn't know.
Me: ::rooted to the spot, hardly believing she actually *said* that::

Yet later, in the dairy section...
Me: ::picking up essentials like cottage cheese, milk, & butter::
Random Woman #3: I find that butter adds so many calories to my diet ::looking pointedly at my hips, and then my face:: Don't you?
Me: No, I think it's the loaf of bread that I eat under my butter every night before bed.
Random Guy #2: ::snickering nearby as Random Woman #3 stalks off:: Well said. And for the record, I like what butter has done for your figure.
Me: Uuuhh... thank you. (I evidently wasted all of my eloquence on snappy comebacks..)

And at the checkout line (when I thought I was home free)...
Me: ::unloading groceries onto the belt, wondering what's up with the Universe::
Random Woman #4: ::voice dripping with sarcasm:: My my, you must have quite a large family at home to warrant all those groceries.
Me: Well, all of my personalities have different tastes... it's quite difficult to cook for all of them.
Random Woman #4: ::staring at me as though I've grown antennae before hastily switching into another checkout line::

Now, I have grown used to isolated incidents like this... they happen every so often. But *was* I wearing a sign today?

Well, sign or no, it was an oddly empowering experience - insults and all. Aside from being floored that people actually *said* these things,and being very self-concious at the exact moment, I found that I wasn't really bothered. Wierded out, yes. Waiting for the candid camera crew or the rift in time/space, yes. But particularly upset? Surprisingly, no.

Screw 'em if they don't like me. I don't exist for the amusement of anyone other than myself (and my parents, who find it really funny how similar I am now to how they were when they were my age) and I certainly don't need their approval to lead a fulfilled life.

Are these women so threatened that they feel the need to lash out? Does my exisiting happily as myself somehow cheapen all the money and effort that they've spent to achieve the "societal norm"? I don't know. All I know is that if their goal was to make me feel ashamed of myself, they did just the opposite.