Fat Bitch

June 30, 2014

I was standing on the platform waiting for the train. It arrived and I stepped to the side so that people could get off the train before I stepped on. A man, who clearly didn’t know how to use the subway system because moments before he asked another commuter if this train would take him to Yankee Stadium, stood directly in front of exiting passengers’ path. I kept glaring at him. When I saw that he noticed me, I said, “I’m waiting for people to get off.” He then raised and opened his arms, as if to say, “You go ahead,” and then he placed his hand on my shoulder to further shepherd me onto the train. I aggressively swatted his hand away and said, “Don’t touch me,” as I boarded. He mumbled under his breath, “Fat bitch.” I let him have it. 

  1. If you have something to say to anyone, be a man and say it clearly, out loud and to the person’s face. Muttering it under your breath is not what a real man does.
  2. My weight has nothing to do with this. You saw something you deemed negative about my body and commented on it because you were trying to make me upset. The shape and size of my body has nothing to do with why I swatted away your hand, and nothing about my body has anything to do with why I was standing to the side and why you were wrong to stand in front of exiting passengers’ way.  Stay on point, asshole. 
  3. The fact that I was standing to the side and letting passengers exit the train before boarding means I was doing the right thing; I was decidedly not being a bitch. I was being thoughtful and courteous, traits you could stand to strengthen. 
  4. You do not get to touch me. Ever. You’re a stranger and you do not get to touch me. I don’t care if you meant well, if you meant no harm, if you knew you weren’t a threat. You’re a stranger and you do not get to purposely touch me. Ever. At all. It doesn’t matter that the touch wasn’t sexual. You do not get to touch me. Ever. 
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