Today a friend and I decided to go to Tim Horton’s for some Coldstone’s ice cream. I was really happy when Coldstone’s came up here from the States, as it had been a favourite of mine when I lived in Hawaii. The fact that it’s in Tim Horton’s means it’s easier to convince my boyfriend to go and get it, so win-win.
There are several Timmy-Coldstone’s in Vancouver and the GVRD, but only one in Nanaimo. (There’s also one in Duncan, which is a 100-km round trip. Not happening.) There are other, cheaper ice cream places in Nanaimo, any of which we could have gone to — but we wanted Coldstone’s. It’s special. And it was a really hot day. Also we make no apologies for wanting whatever the fuck we want and eating it too — in public, even.
Here is the point where I tell you something you already know: I’m fat. So is my friend. And while we are both feisty, fat, awesome individuals, we still struggle with self-esteem issues. Because we have spent our entire lives being told that we are inhuman, horrible disgusting blobs that should kill ourselves for allowing ourselves to be so fat and offensive to the eyes of society. How dare we breathe your air and take up all your space with our fat! How dare we have big bellies! How dare we eat ice cream or junkfood — this is, of course, no problem if you’re skinny and it’s all you eat, because obviously thinness is the only measure of health. No, because we are already fat we should eat nothing but salad and watercress and wear nothing but sackcloth and ashes.
So, let’s start from that. We’re fat, and we’re awesome people and we deserve to be treated like human beings. Regardless of our fatness or awesomeness. We’re human.
We’ve gone to this Coldstone’s before. Almost every time we go, we stand there for a long time before someone serves us.
Today we stood there for 10 minutes. There were several people walking around behind the counter, and it wasn’t terribly busy. Each person ignored us.
I stepped away for a moment to look in the freezer at the pre-made stuff, to see if I would rather want something from there as it was taking so long. Two people who were pretty damn tall and pretty damn thin walk up to where I’d been standing a second ago. Instead of saying “Excuse me, I was here first,” and taking my place back in the line, I stand back. As an experiment. (My friend was still at the head of the line.)
Within 10 seconds someone comes up to take their order. And my friend says “Actually, we were here first. Before them.”
And the guy says, rudely, “So you haven’t gotten your ice cream yet?” with this look on his face like we don’t need any and we shouldn’t complain about the free diet advice.
My friend says “No, no one has even taken our order.” At this point I come to stand with her.
Rude guy starts taking my friend’s order, and another guy comes up to take the skinny couple’s order. No one takes mine, but at this point I’m too angry to want any fucking ice cream. Not from Coldstone’s.
My friend ended up paying over 5 dollars for something that was advertised as 3.99, and she was too upset to eat it. She ended up throwing it out. She would have refused to pay for it in the first place, but here’s a secret: we’re Canadian and we’re taught to be polite and just take our lumps. We’re fat, so we’re taught to not have attitude about anything because then no one will fuck us, and that’s the worst fate ever for a fat girl! Programming is really hard to overcome. Programming + societal pressure to never look weird, lest you get shunned? Yeah, fucking walk in the park.
I get confrontational on my blog and in my video-logs. I do not in person. I am timid and mousey in person. I wanted to hit someone with my cane in Timmy’s. Instead I didn’t even say anything.
So here. Let me FAT AT YOU, Timmy’s and Coldstone’s. I am FATTING AT YOU RIGHT NOW. I am FAT, and I DESERVE SERVICE. Also, how fucking stupid are you at capitalism that you’re going to treat a fat person badly in a food establishment? Like, seriously. Putting aside the fact that I deserve basic humanity, I’m going to be your best customer.
Well, I was. Not anymore.
This is the last I will be eating of Coldstone’s or Timmy’s, for that matter. At least at this location. Nanaimo, you can take your fatphobia and shove it.
I think I may call them and demand reparations for my friend. She deserves her five dollars back.
PS: The sad thing is, I’m used to this. I get this treatment all the time in restaurants. Let me tell you, Fat Lady don’t need a diet — Fat Lady needs her fucking ice cream, and maybe some fries. Chop chop, sanctimonious bastards.