so this one time, on the plane...

My blogger friend Melanie of is this the middle? wrote a post about a moment when she was shamed about her appearance . While pondering about what I had personally experienced, I recalled this somewhat related incident, oddly not too deep in the recesses of my memory. 
This happened a long time ago. 
The me now would handle it differently. 
Probably. 
Maybe.


Everyone was on their feet, carry–ons and personal items collected, waiting for the airplane doors to finally open. We’d been standing for a while. It had already taken what seemed like forever for the pilots to taxi the plane to the gate, so needless to say, we were all antsy and very ready to get the hell out of there.
 
The guy behind me, who had somehow managed to slither himself between my husband and me, was shoving me… again. I was not particularly comfortable with the way he was poking me with his body and belongings, nudging me forward. I had nowhere to go. So, finally, I turned to him and said:

"You can shove all you want, it’s not gonna make me go faster and it’s certainly not gonna make all the people waiting, ahead of me, move any faster either.” 
 
Maybe not verbatim, but definitely something in those lines, with a polite but firm tone nevertheless. 
Clear, concise, and logical. Right?
 
His reply was eloquent in its simplicity:
 
Fatass!”
 
He said it after I had turned away. He said it to my back essentially – presumably to my fat ass – but he said it loud enough that I heard him. That others heard him. 
 
[Continue reading at Monday Morning Musings]
 
 

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