Fattest One There
Saturday night was met with much excitement and anticipation by yours truly. A good friend of mine had been trying to get me to go to some dance party in Oakland for months, but things kept getting in the way (prior commitments, illness, etc). This dance party? Well, it’s something sort of special, you see. It’s a once a month kind of thang. It is an entire evening of Prince and Michael Jackson’s music. This is serious business, y’all!
When we got there I wasn’t sure what to expect. This specific event is also held in San Francisco and I’d heard about the packed house and line outside to get in. But this time there was no line. I liked the space it was in (Vitus on Broadway) and found the decor and atmosphere to be inviting, worn around the edges and eclectic…my kind of place! Ha! The drinks were weak as hell, but surprisingly affordable all things considered. I had a cape cod at first but discovered they had Strongbow in a can and opted for that after detecting zero vodka in my cranberry.
The DJ’s were awesome! I’m no expert on DJ’s, but I am picky as hell about music. These guys knew their shit, read the room and kept the party going…All night long! They started out with some deeper cuts, some slower tracks, but kept buiding until pretty much everyone in the places was dancing if not at least bopping along to the music. There were times when I wanted to get some water and take a break in a chair for awhile, but NO! They would throw on “OMZTHATSMYJAM!” and I’d spin around to dance some more before I could even make it to the table.
The crowd was friendly and respectful. This was no meat market. I didn’t see any creepers or pervs and it seemed to me that everyone was there to get their groove on and show off their moves! There was even an MJ impersonator who was fabulous and gracious with photos and dance partners alike. His moves were legit, that is all I will say about that. There were lots of couples and a wide range of ages and ethnicities.
I had a blast dancing with my girls and just being silly and shakin’ my groove thang. Towards the end of the night, when my body kept moving even though I knew I was beyond beat, I realized something every fatty fears: I was the fattest person in the room. It was a big room, too! Ha-ha! This realization didn’t slow my feet or my hips. This sudden thought of being the ultimate fatty in a room full of hotties and geeks galore didn’t frighten or depress me. I simply had the thought, looked around to double check, and then smiled a knowing smile for no one else but me. Because I may have been the fattest in the room, but I danced my ass off all night anyway!
This happens to me a lot actually, so I’ve kind of gotten used to it, but I’m completely impressed by your reaction anyway! And I’m glad you had fun!
You have no idea how good this post makes me feel. 🙂
When I was in my 30’s (yes, dinosaurs walked back then…) I felt it was sort of a duty to wear colorful clothes and go out in public. At around 400 pounds, I was quite often the biggest person in any room any time any where. But I never felt it more strongly than out at the clubs.
Of course, activisim in the form of going out and being seen living our lives while fat is the norm for the denizens of the Fatosphere today. But back then there wasn’t even an Internet let alone places like the Fatosphere or this blog. Fat people were more or less on our own, alone in a society that was toxic to us.
I remember going places in my colorful outfits and being stared at. Being looked at like I was a freak. Being openly laughed at even. It got old and it was daunting. But every once in a while I’d see another large person and they would see ME.
That was why I did it. To be seen by others like me so they wouldn’t feel alone. So that someday in the future that we fat people might not have to hide any more. I’m not trying to say I’m brave, but back then it was a mega radical act to be fat in public and not try to hide.
Fast forward to now, today. And I’m soooo thrilled to read posts like yours and others like it. Because young women like you are going out and living your livies fat or not. Because it makes me look back to that young woman I was and tell her she was right!
When I’m home (in the Boston area or in Bay Area), my group of friends is diverse in size, so I’m usually somewhere in the middle when it comes to fatness. However, this year living in London, most of the friends I’ve made have been thin (fatties are hard to find here sometimes). So I’m very, very frequently the fattest one — in the classroom, in the club, in the pub, on the tube, on the bus, etc. I know that my size (20/22) provides me privileges that a larger woman doesn’t have (I can shop at some stores, I can fit in many seats), but the realization of being the fattest fatty mcfatterson can be challenging sometimes — usually only if I’m alone. I feel empowered when I’m with friends, even if I’m significantly fatter than them. Maybe it’s because I rarely get harassed when friends are around (but not never — I have been insulted by strangers in front of friends, much to the shock of those friends). It feels like a big victory when you realize you’re the biggest but it doesn’t f*cking matter, so way to go, girl!
Hey, If you can make it down to the southbay today, at 6:00 pm, there is a Michael Jackson cover group playing for free at the Pruneyard in Campbell. You might be the fattest person there but you will not be the only fat person there as my sister and I will be there!
Hee! I actually often enjoy being the fill-in-the-blankest person in the room. I’m rarely the fattest (though I have been that before), but I’ve been the shortest adult on several occasions, and I’ve been the loudest dressed as often as not, and I’ve been the loudest, the quietest… yeah, I like living on the edge.
It’s the middle that tends to scare me. I worry that I might just disappear if I spend too much time there.
Just as long as you had fun!! Love that you didn’t stop! All’s I gotsta say is “Shwerk, gurl!”
Love it!!! Glad you had so much fun.