So after I flew back from Chicago (more on that later), the MTV folks (more on that later) rented a taxi for us to get home in..
So, me in some leopard-print stretch pants
and Guido the cameraman
climb into the yellow minivan and the driver says something in another language to his friend who is driving another taxicab.
Our driver yells something and then both men laugh and laugh and Guido says “What’s going on? What’s so funny?” -like in a friendly, just making conversation, let me laugh too, kind of way – not a “wipe that stupid smile off your face” type way. Just to clarify.
Anyhoo, the driver says “oh… I can’t- I don’t want to say it in front of her.” pointing to me.
And I think: he and his friend are talking about my leopard print ass.
I knew I shouldn’t have worn these pants. I can’t believe I’m wearing leggings on TV. Don’t I always make fun of leggings? Why am I wearing leggings??
and THEN I think: leopard leggings aside, who does this man think he is that he can make fun of my ass in front of my face?!
And I start to get really pissed and feeling bad about myself…
when it occurs to me… that maybe he LIKES my spotted rump.
Maybe its a great coup for this man to carry around a fat lady and her cameraman. Maybe he was bragging to his friend in the other taxicab that now he gets to see where I live…
And THEN, I think: maybe this laughing has NOTHING TO DO WITH ME! Maybe he and his friends have some really nasty inside joke that he just doesn’t think is appropriate for a woman’s delicate constitution!
I don’t understand why THAT’S not my first conclusion: someone’s rude in a store. I can think either: ‘this cashier thinks I’m totally gross for buying mascara and a Baby Ruth’, OR ‘she’s a miserable person who’s been working for 14 hours straight’. Which is more likely?
I doesn’t have to be either my fault for being fat, or their fault for being a jackass… it can have absolutely nothing to do with any of it!!
ps- is it like standard procedure for the cab drivers to give you their numbers as you leave? cause it’s happening a lot… with notes like “call me so I have your number” scrawled along the edge of the SECOND business card he’s given you in 20 minutes? I don’t know.. maybe I’ve got some mystical cab passenger mojo goin on…