The Fat Cow Complex Essay Research Paper

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The Fat Cow Complex Essay, Research Paper It?s mid-June. I graduated a few days earlier and here I am sitting nervously on a bench outside Lane Bryant, staring at the gate It?s my first job interview ever. I?m nervous as hell. I must have dried my hands fifty times on my dress but they?re still sticky with sweat. A woman comes to the front and opens the gate. She asks my name, I tell her. She nods, smiles, shakes my hand, introduces herself as Fran and tells me how cute I look. I beam and thank her. I?m not used to compliments. One of the questions she asks me is what my best shopping experience was like. I rack my brain. What kind of question is that? I think. Taking a deep breath I reply that it would have to be the first time I ever shopped there, at Lane Bryant. She looks

at me skeptically. I explain how my mom guided me there after a long discouraging day of school clothes shopping. To pacify her, I follow and try on jeans and a t-shirt. I leave the dressing room to model for Mom and the sales lady squeals over how good I look. I?m taken aback. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know that she does this to make the sale but it?s the first time I?ve ever been complimented by a salesperson. I feel welcome here. I don?t get the ?You? You think you?ll be able to buy anything here?? look. By the end of my story I?m nearly in tears. I smile sheepishly. I get the job. As I leave, Tess, another woman who works at the store, tells me I look great. I do. I am beautiful. Early July. Mel invites twenty of her closest friends to swim in her pool after a

barbecue at the beach. I?m standing on the deck, beach towel wrapped around me. Everyone else is in the pool. I?m trying to think of the least conspicuous way to slip into the warm inviting pool. Amanda notices I?m just standing there and calls for me to join them, also calling everyone’s attention to me. I swallow the huge lump in my throat, throw my towel over the rail and jump in the water, praying no one saw the jiggling of my thighs as I leapt. Later they?re having chicken fights and I?m floating alone in the deep end. My only friend the pink Noodle that?s keeping me afloat. Sara pulls herself over to me. She asks if I too feel like some form of sea cow. I nod. She nods sympathetically. Sara?s not fat. I maneuver the Noodle behind me and float on my back. The water

distorts my image and each of my milky white legs looks the size of Sara. I close my eyes and sigh. Then there are arms underneath me. Travis, who?s six feet tall and weighs about twenty pounds has picked me up. Please God, I silently beg, Don?t let him go to the shallow end. I?ll snap him like a twig. I?m a manatee and he?s a guppy. I?m at work. My current task is to rehang the intimate apparel. I?m working my way through a pile of blue lace thongs. My cheeks have been scarlet since I?ve begun. Not for myself but the women that actually wear them. I could wrap the size 28 ones around my waist a few times. I hear someone clear their throat. I look up and there?s a boy. He asks if we have a restroom. I shake my head and mumble something incoherent. He asks my name. I tell him. He

introduces himself as Mark He asks when I get off. I tell him. He asks me to lunch with him. I accept. We sit in the food court and talk for hours, about everything and anything. I?ve never met anyone like him, we have the same interests, he?s a huge fan of Vivaldi and thinks that Brian Setzer may be Satan incarnate. I give him my number. He promises to call. I?m radiant and happy. Mark doesn?t call. I buy a pint of Ben and Jerry?s Phish Food and a magazine. By the end of the night the magazine is thoroughly stained with my tears and in a pile with the empty ice cream carton. Also joining the pile is an empty package of donuts, the plate from my peanut butter sandwich and an carton of chocolate milk. I curl around my stomach and cry some more. I?m disgusting and pitiful. In late