Yesterday, Thinposter put this comment on Twistie’s Fatties With Heads post:
“I have an irrational fear of one day seeing my disembodied butt or stomach lumbering down the sidewalk on a news broadcast.”
While I do not now nor– God-willing– shall I ever lumber, I feel her pain. Once I had a girlfriend who admitted she didn’t like going out with more than one fat friend at a time because she thought it increased the risk of being filmed. Like two fat people walking down the street is fine, but three is a spectacle.
Oh irrational fat fears, how they plague us even as we acknowledge their ridiculousness and go about our daily lives, and yet, let the first person who doesn’t eyeball the weight capacity in a crowded elevator cast the first stone.
Some aren’t even that irrational. Hot Latin Boy didn’t understand how relieved I was to have him as my airplane companion. Now I can attractively wedge my voluminous self into the ever-shrinking window seat and have HLB sit next to me, thus relieving everyone on that winged sardine can of the terror of sitting next to the fatty.
So what’s your Irrational (or not) Fat Fear? Put it in the comments!