For The Slim And Short

in #blog6 years ago

So - check this out...

Last night as I mentioned, my sister and I went to the Dixie Chicks concert here in LA.


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We made reservations for dinner at a restaurant called The Pacific Dining Car in downtown LA near the concernt venue. We were excited to go because we had heard great things about this place AND they offered a free shuttle to the concert so we didn't have to worry about parking. (bonus!)

When we arrived the place was virtually empty minus a few tables of early bird diners. It had an old school steakhouse vibe - we were stoked. A man went to seat us and lead us to a table in the middle of the dining room. I asked if he had a booth available. And he said:

"You don't want to sit in the booths. They are uncomfortable. Because they are primarily for the slim and the short."

I looked at him and he could tell I understood his subtext. His eyes got wider and he tried to make it better by pointing to himself and saying "I am not slim nor short so I don't sit at the booths, either."

I was silent as he continued to dig himself a hole.

"The cushions on the back of the booths were reupholstered so that they don't give much room between the back of the booth and the table."

Seriously? Is he still continuing?

He was offering us this lecture at the top of his lungs in front of other diners and the two couples already seated at the booths were staring.

"FINE" I managed to muster under my breath as I grabbed the back of the chair to sit down at the table. I felt scolded, shamed, and reprimanded and all I wanted was a FRICKIN booth.

My sister didn't know right away how to process what just happened. All of sudden we both felt incredibly uncomfortable and found ourselves eye balling the booths. The men sitting in the booths had bellies - all of them. And they didn't seem uncomfortable or inconvenienced by the new upholstery.

I opened the menu and wanted my feeling of disgust to go away. It didn't. I couldn't help but have that conversation ring in my head. Did he just exercise sizism on me? I wanted to find a way out of feeling aware. Obviously in what I do - I have a heightened sense of these things so I spent a few minutes trying to talk myself out of what I was feeling.

Couldn't do it.

As I processed with my sister we both decided I wasn't crazy - we did hear and felt what we heard and felt - and decided to leave. I didn't want to patronize a restaurant where they wouldn't let me sit where I desired. I think it was his job to seat us at a booth and let us decide if we are uncomfortable and want to move. He asserted his opinion that we were neither "slim nor short" - and I didn't have to accept that.

We got up and asked for a manager.

The man who sat us was the manager. Holy cow. So I said to him:

"Sir, you have offended us. Your comment as to why you wouldn't seat us in a booth is ridiculous and insulting"

He wasn't surprised - he knew exactly what he was doing.

He said "I am sorry. I just thought you'd be more comfortable at a table."

I said "I didn't ask for a table. Did you make the same lecture to the people you sat at the booths?"

He replied "No, they seem considerably smaller to me."

HA! There you have it. He said it. He was being sizeist. And now I didn't have to beat myself up for feeling what I felt. My gut never lies.

I said "Well, that is disgusting for you to discriminate like that. And for that we won't be patronizing your restaurant and I will make sure to tell everyone I know not to as well."

We turned and walked out. Drove to the concert venue - found a lovely new place to eat and attempted to put this akward moment behind us.

Truth is, to a less trained or aware ear, his comments could have just lodged themselves in the general data base of self-loathing, non-acceptance, discrimination that most people feel about their bodies. I did go through my own process of thinking "am I THAT big that he had to say that?" or the "why me?" thoughts poured through me. And then I stopped myself. It wasn't for me to figure out. It was his ignorance, his issue not mine. And I took the action I could - which was to remove myself and speak up.

Was it comfortable? No. Did I want to do it? No. Did I have to do it? Yes.

I have come too far in my own self-love and recovery to not call something as I see it.

As I feel it.

And raise my voice.