Yeah, I'm one of those chicks who can eat anything she wants without exercising and never gain an ounce. I can have two desserts every day and not see the needle on the scale quiver even a little bit--hypothetically. I don't actually own a scale. (This is not to say that I'm skirting long-term health issues with the two-dessert semi-sedentary lifestyle. I'm just saying daily double helpings of belgian chocolate mousse cake equals weight stasis for ant b.)
Now, you may think that natural uber-thinness would be a blessing, a dream, the thing to wish for when the genie says "what'll ya have?" and I'm not going to tell you that it doesn't have its upsides, for sure. Generally, clothes look good on me when I can find some that are small enough. I can wriggle through tight airplane and movie theater aisles pretty effortlessly. I am easily lifted by others, which I guess would be useful if my legs suddenly and temporarily stopped working or I got the opportunity to join an aerialist troupe. And then there's the aforementioned mass consumption of anything I lay my eyes on without fear of butt and thigh expansion.
But it's not all blissful skipping through life in hot pants while snarfing triple bacon cheeseburgers. When you're thin, other women are compelled to comment on it, and maybe you don't know this, but women who don't feel thin are not always so nice to we who am thin.
Popular comments/questions frequently thrown at me by rude strangers when I'm minding my own business (and licking chocolate frosting off my elbows in public):
1. What are you, a size ZERO? must be ni-ice...(and she just barely doesn't add "bitch" at the end there)
2. Don't you EAT?
3. Are you anorexic?
4. Why are you so thin?
Generally, I just smile sheepishly and try to act pleasant and say some form of "it's totally a genetic thing, my parents looked like this when they were my age, oh thanks, yeah, I've just got a really high metabolism, I guess..." blah blah blah until I can get away from them and into the nearest marshmallow factory.
And here's what REALLY sucks: I'm not even safe from other thin chicks.
Apparently, I'm so skinny that skinny chicks think I'm skinny. I can't tell you how often, when I try to engage another svelte woman in some skinny bitch-sisterly camaraderie, the skinny bitch sistah smiles uncomfortably and says something like, "oh yeah, but I'm not as thin as you are." WHAT?! I'm like Rudolph the Super Spindly Reindeer Bitch trying to get in on a game of Skinny Reindeer Bitch teeball.
This is what I'd like to say to the offenders in the above scenarios (but never will because I'm nice and know that they don't realize how incredibly rude and inappropriate they are being):
1. I'll have you know that I can often fit into a size 2, madam, but yes, I'm 5'7" and generally I am a size zero. what fucking business is it of yours?
2. I sure do. I eat CONSTANTLY, and I never gain an ounce. Jealous? Bite me
3. No. Never have been. I may have some food issues ('cuz, let's face it, it's hard to grow up in the U.S. and escape unscathed), but I've never had an eating disorder. You, Lady Jabba, however, may want to consider the occasional purge. I'm just sayin'.
4. I dunno. Maybe because I WAS BORN THIS WAY AND CAN'T HELP IT? Why are you so fat, hmm?
E always says that I really should come out swinging when people say things like that to me, and I'm starting to get to the point where I'm ready to do so. The older I get, the less patient I am with the asshats of the world, I guess.
Here's the thing: Asking someone as skinny as I am about her skinniness is really the same thing as asking a fat person about their fatness. It's just rude.
Plus there are SO many other more interesting things to talk about with a stranger. Like where they got their really cool purse.