I’m calling this one more myth and want to meet the idiot who started it.
There was an office below where I once lived who had a very heavy male employee, and if he were coming down the stairs while you were going up, he’d stop because two of us couldn’t fit on the stairwell. He also smelled of BO and garlic. Think pizza after a spin class.
This brings up something I read in the paper about an obese kid living above a beauty parlor in Chinatown having a fatal heart attack whose eventual scent makes
this known to his neighbors downstairs. Let’s say that made BO and garlic smell like a new men’s cologne. But back to office man.
My heart always went out to him because he was friendly more than jolly. Yes, there’s a difference. Managing a hello, how are you, doesn’t require teeth.
Once I insisted he borrow an umbrella because of a sudden storm and then said…keep it, so you have one. Did I have an instant fan. For the next week, whenever he saw me he’d smile, his eyes twinkling like we had secret plans. Uh-Oh…I was worried next he’d be serenading me below my window with a mandolin.
But that’s not what this is about.
It’s about the obese expected to act jolly.
If my feet swell I cry, let alone carting around two bodies in one. My pal Camille, if she’s a pound overweight, rewrites her will. Jolly, that Webster says means, happy and cheerful, perky and fun-loving, is the last thing you feel. One has to assume Mr. Webster was slim and didn’t have a weight problem.
This piece was actually inspired by a very large woman who recently did my hair which means, she stuck her sweaty hands through it like a spaghetti strainer, to give it more body, she said. Well, if anyone knew about extra body she did, in tights no less.
She got angry because she said something I misheard as wig…”I’d prefer not wearing a wig in this heat,” said I.
“Who said wig!!! I said, big…as in more body on the top.”
You would have thought I ate her cat she got so mad. I told her, I was sorry, but have hearing loss and sometimes don’t hear everything correctly.
“I’ve worked with you before so I already know that,” she snapped.
“Well if you already know that, why are you so angry at me then?”
“WHO’S ANGRY??? DO I SEEM ANGRY???”
Before I could snap, a little guy with a tray of chicken quesadillas passes by getting her immediate attention, but even a stuffed sandwich didn’t make her more jolly.
As for me, I was two inches taller when she gets done with my hair looking an awful lot like Marge Simpson, and am anything but jolly.
Myths… There should be a law.