milkring.com

My company is sending everyone to Reno, NV in January for a fun-filled three day trip of doing whatever you want to do in Reno, for three days as part of a gift for doing so well this year. I’d really like to go, however, there’s one thing stopping me: Southwest Airlines. Like most airline carriers, they have a policy that basically states if you encroach on the person’s seat that is next to you, you must pay for an extra seat. I’m not one of those fat person fanatics that think whoah, whoah! Discrimination! I mean, really, if you’re too large to fit into the space, maybe you should consider getting an extra seat. Is it really fair for the person next to you to have to suffer through your fat rolls because you’re gushing over the armrest? Now when I illustrate this, I’m talking someone pretty extreme. I guess the thing that bugs me, is that I’ve seen that show on A&E called Airline. It’s a reality show where camera crews follow the folks that work for Southwest around an airport and record the crap they have to put up with on a daily basis at their job. On one particular episode, there was a “woman of size” who had flown with Southwest the first part of her trip, nothing was said to her, and now she was on the last leg of her trip, and someone said she needed to purchase an extra seat. Now, this woman was pretty hefty, but she wasn’t that bad. I’m going to be really honest with you. That’s one of my biggest fears: I’m going to stroll up to the counter, some pimply faced jackass is going to look me over a time or two, and tell me I’m too fat to fit into a seat, and could I please whip out the plastic and grab that other seat, please and thank you. And all my coworkers are going to be standing there, quietly snickering, and oh my hell. I just don’t know if I can play rhoulette and go through it. I’ve read over Southwest’s Policies and according to them, the determining factor is whether or not you can lower the armrests between you and the person next to you. I can, thankfully. But how are they going to determine that just by my whipping up there telling them I’m here to check in?

I’m sorry to rant. I’m just really pretty worried about this, and I guess I shouldn’t be. I’m not real sure I want to hit up Reno, anyway. I’ve never been there, but a.) I’m not a drinker, and b.) I’m not ready to throw all my money away gambling, so I’m not real sure what else there is to do. That, and I like to try to keep my work life and private life separate, with a few exceptions here and there, of course. Maybe I’m making too big of a deal of this. I’m a big gal, but I ain’t *that* big. I am not the judge in this one, however. The guy in the Southwest uniform is. And I just don’t know that I want to take that chance.

I’m at a hard spot in my life right now. I am doing something about it, and I feel like I’m doing pretty good. Maybe by this time next year, I’ll feel better about doing it. Maybe then I won’t have to worry about stupid things such as this. Maybe this is a good learning experience for others who have no idea what it’s like to be bigger; who have no idea what it’s like to let something so miniscule lead your decision on something that, for most people, wouldn’t even be a second thought. I hate being fat, and I hate having to worry about this crap and have it dictate my decision. It ain’t for long, though.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 2nd, 2005 at 10:46 pm and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.