Never a dull moment in retail as a fatpositive lass.

Two ladies (regulars, at that) who have triggered me before with prissy comments like “You don’t carry a lot of XS, do you?” came in just now. An abhorrent display of thin privilege, whether the comment was justified or no (which, hey, it wasn’t, and, in fact, many of our lines run small).

(To put it into a cashier’s thinkspot, I will report that of the four or so items that garnered interest from them, the only purchase was a 75% item totaling $18.)

Generally, I enjoy these women. They’re rather earthy-seemin’ (whatever this can mean, at least in appearance) and spunk-filled. When one of the women elects to take a butterfly wing poncho-style hoodie, which is a S/M, into the dressing room, I hear her say loudly to her counterpart, “Well, this would look good if you were, you know, fat.”

She says this and comes out of the dressing room to flap the fabric around in a mocking fashion. A burst of disapproval leaps from me and I say, “If you were what?”

She stutters. “Y'know. F-fat.”

In my jolly retail voice, I say, “That’s a triggering word, ma'am.”

Both of them take the bite. “Triggering? How?”

“Maybe I should’ve said ‘larger.’ Or,” and she thinks she has a genius thought this time, “that it would hide all manner of sins.”

Me: “Meaning that your larger body had something to atone for? That being larger is in itself a sin?”

My brain is a hashtag of 'thin privilege’ stuck on repeat but I can’t say the words.

The other lady speaks up: “Well, what about being made fun of because you’re skinny? Isn’t 'skinny’ just as bad a word sometimes?”

Insert various stories of this brother or this person being made fun of for being lanky or thin and I just sit. I tell them I’ve experienced just that for most of my life (and I have/did). I wonder if they’d even believe that I was once as small as them.

I nearly decide a potential education surpasses their need to remain frequent customers, but the topic eventually switches and I ring them up and wish them well and overcompensate in kindness, the overwhelming weight of knowledge/passion balling up into one large spasm of helplessness and anger.