You don’t want to turn into a tub of goo

Normally, the titles of my entries are from songs, movies or books. This one, however, is from real life. My real life. Said about me.

The other day, I was downtown Pittsburgh, waiting for a friend to show up so we could go to a concert at Mellon Arena. As I stood on the corner, about 10 feet from me was a man and a woman. The man clearly worked out; even though he was wearing a suit, you could tell he had a nice chest.

I was being nosy and kind of listening to the conversation, as he was talking to the woman, who looked to be about mid-30’s, about her need to exercise as well as eat healthier. He seemed healthy and I thought I’d see what he had to say.

And that is when he nodded his head to his right, in my direction with no one else in the area, and said “You don’t want to turn into a tub of goo.”

Now, I know I’m paranoid about my weight, but there is no doubt in my mind that he was directing this comment my way. I looked at him and said “WHAT??” The woman got red faced and turned away and the guy stumbled through a comment “Uh, I, uh, wasn’t talking about you.”

I would have said something else to him, but I think I would have burst into tears. I was so angry and ashamed at that moment. And this is the third time in my life someone has said something negative & hurtful about my weight.

One time about 3 years ago, Gary & I were shooting pool at a gay bar. (If I haven’t explained this before, Gary is a good looking guy who works out and, therefore, has a nice physique.) There was a room behind the main bar that was closed off so you could get away from the loud music and talk to someone, and obviously there was a pool table. These four good-looking men came in and sat at the corner of the bar. The bar is L-shaped with a brick pillar at the corner of the L, and I was on one side of the pillar, these guys at the other side of it. One guy who had his back on the pillar said something about the cute guy shooting pool. Another one asked which guy, and, as all of them listened in, the first guy said “Not the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.” Between Gary & I, only one could ever be considered The stay Puft Marshmallow Man. (Considering they were younger, I was slightly impressed with the reference to the 1984 movie Ghostbusters. Also, it seems that in pop culture, a reference to the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man can mean something that people assume is harmless - I mean, look at him on the left, so soft and gooey and friendly looking, but is really menacing and evil in the right circumstances, just like me. I should have sat on the fucker when he said that!)

Then, another time out with Gary shortly after the Marshmallow Man incident, some guy was talking to him and I was next to them. The guy asked Gary why he had brought his straight friend, and when Gary said I wasn’t straight, the guy said “I didn’t know gay guys were that fat.”

Those earlier incidents helped me decide to start running. And this new one will help fuel me now. I got up this morning at 248.5 lbs. Tomorrow, I will eat better and, at the least, be on the treadmill for 30 minutes. I don’t want to be thought of as “too fat to be gay,” or the “Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” or a “Tub of goo.”