Last night my husband and I went out to eat to celebrate my getting a job. We had some nice Italian food, and eventually the waiter came around to see if we wanted a dessert. My husband said no thanks, but I felt like having a few bites of something, so I asked for the dessert menu. To which the waiter replied, in that awful I’m-oh-so-funny way, “It’s no calories just to look!”

Well excuuuuuuse me for being fat in your restaurant, dude. I’m not on a diet, I’m not counting my calories, and EVEN IF I WERE, I was out to fucking celebrate. I don’t need your judgment on whether I deserve a few bites of overpriced cake. I swear, I could have kicked the man.

Had the cake anyways, though, because fuck if I was going to let him ruin my evening.

{This intersects with male privilege (in the expectation that all women ever are always dieting), as I’m pretty sure there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell it would have been said to my husband. This is a microaggression more than any kind of systematic abuse or discrimination. For all I know, dude says it to all the ladies.}