I’m not being falsely modest when I say I didn’t understand
what The Coach was seeing when he first asked me out at my college bookstore
job in 2016. I was in a real post-adventures schlubby phase. I probably had on my
heather-purple college logo shirt with loose AND ill-fitting jeans and (still
my faves admittedly) the Payless version of black lowtop Converse. It was first
thing in the morning so my long hair was probably damp in its lazy bun. This
was (only a little bit) before Mr. Makeout Music came into the picture and made
me want to doll things up again.
But here he was, getting sports-guy snacks before work
or class or whatever. Slight-but-strong, a little less than my height, skin the
color and smoothness of caramel, fluttery innocent dark eyes. In retrospect,
the way he hit on me was delightfully old-fashioned and direct: He wrote his
number on the back of a receipt and JUST CAME OUT AND SAID (something like) “I
think you’re really attractive and I’d like to take you out. Give me a call
sometime.”
Honestly it was tempting to think he was trolling me,
but he really did seem sincere! I was working with BFF at the time and, well after
The Coach had left, I was all “I think ______ _______ asked me out?” (He’s a
full-name guy. Love it.) I couldn’t imagine us having anything in common.
Next time he came in, he looked a little shy-but-still-swaggery
and said “ You didn’t call!”
I was a little snappish about it—I had this idea that
nobody should be hitting on someone when they’re stuck behind a counter, but
seriously, 2016 me, I was a middle-aged assistant manager, not a kid! It’s not
like there was a power imbalance, unless you count the part where he was 24.
(As was Mr. Makeout Music! Should I stop automatically swiping left on the
under-30 set? Maybe not.)
A few months later, I apologized for being kind of a B
and asked him out, but he’d gotten a girlfriend by then, so I happily/flirtily
wished them well.
After he and the girlfriend broke up and after I was
COMPLETELY DECIMATED by Mr. Makeout Music/the 2016 election, the thing with The
Coach came around again. We’d planned to get together causally, but got
derailed by some mismatched sexting—I got triggered by the way he talked about
my body, too porny and harsh. The ways he talked about my fatness felt
fetishizing, so I blocked him. We were still friendly in person, so we meandered
back into each other’s feeds. And then I blocked him some more.
In her book, What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk
About Fat, Aubrey Gordon has a chapter about different forms of objectification
of fat people that really shifted my perspective. Why, she asks (I’m
paraphrasing) does it have to be something shameful when somebody is attracted
to fat? Why do we consider it a bad fetish? I mean, he did need to learn a
LITTLE bit of manners, but I wondered why I was so triggered by this particular
(sporty, fit) person finding my big ass hot? (NOTE: Aubrey Gordon is way better
at talking about this than I am. You really should read the book!)
Anyway, last year sometime, I sent a friend request
from The Coach into the ignore pile, but he must’ve still been following. When
I posted about loving the new Shang-Chi movie (Speaking of deliciiiiiiiiious
men) The Coach commented/messaged three different ways to try and talk to me
about the movie. And of course, I’m superslutty for talking about movies!
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