I was just getting coffee at the University cafe thing… and some guy offered to buy it for me. It was mega embarrassing and uncomfortable. This kind of thing has been happening a lot since I’ve lost weight. I forgot that the best part of being a Fatty McFat Fat is that men don’t bother you or look at you. It’s great. I don’t like talking to people in general, and when it’s a guy hitting on me.. *shudder* Even when I was single.
I’m not ugly, I’m meh, ok looking, and I don’t blame this guy, or most guys for trying. It is flattering.. but mostly it’s just embarrassing. I want to be unnoticed, incognito.. like a shadow. No, I didn’t let him buy me the coffee although he was pretty cute. The woman at the cash register really enjoyed the whole thing. Like she was watching a movie or was an audience member of the Ricki Lake show. We were standing there and he was like “no, let me get this..” and I was desperately getting the cash out of my wallet and he was like “come on, go for it..” (he really said that) and I was like “oh here. (finding the cash) No, I got it, but thanks anyway.” and he was like “next time.” and she was like.. “ooooooohhhhh.” It was probably the most exciting thing to happen to her all day at that job. So first on the agenda– gain back every pound I’ve lost and more.
I remember the first time I was going to go to Italy, I was talking to my Grandmother (who was Italian) and her advice was to watch out for the men “they pinch.” Although I was never pinched there.. she was right. Walking around in Italy was like something I had never experienced before. Every man felt free to stare at any part of your body they felt like. They had no shame. It was pretty degrading. The only time they kept their lurid stares to themselves was when I was out with another man. So at least they have respect for other men’s property.
Swedish men, on the whole are much tamer. The only time they become over baring and brutish is when they’ve been drinking. And when the morning comes, they turn back into their meek selves. A friend of mine told me years ago, he thought it was pathetic the way Swedish men didn’t… I forget how he put it but essentially, club me over the head and drag me home. He was British, and a brute himself. I was 18 and he was … lets say, not. He ogled me all the time, and I giggled. But he was my friend. That’s the strange thing. I don’t mind attention from my male friends. I encourage it. But if I don’t know you and I’m doing something like buying a coffee, or sitting on the bus, or walking down the street, leave me alone. Unless you are Johnny Deep obviously.
There was a guy on my train yesterday that looked just like Matthew Fox only a few years younger. It was a pleasant train ride. Unfortunately he didn’t offer to buy me anything.