NEVER
MIND THE GAP
4/11/13
As my workouts rolled onward, I gradually felt better. Not quite
as sluggish. A little cockier. Slightly stronger and a lot more sore. But then
a strange thing happened…I started to obsess about the quest for a thigh gap.
Now, a thigh gap is a touchy subject (Ha ha, couldn’t
resist) for a fluffy girl. It’s something that occurs naturally for most ‘Pretty
Girls’ but honestly, I have never in my life had one. Never. Not even
when I was ten and a total tomboy, slim as a whip, running wild through the
suburban splendor of The OC . *And yes, I grew up in Orange County…so now you
know the true source of my angst. Thank you for caring!*
But what’s a thigh gap you ask? It’s the absence of flesh at
the top and between your thighs. According to society standards (And every
Barbie doll I’ve ever seen) women are supposed to see daylight in between their
legs. Um, all I’ve ever seen is soft, pale flesh smooshed together in one
white, round lump. Kinda like a giant spoonful of marshmallow fluff.
And, aside from the esthetics, for those of us without a gap
it really is kinda a problem. We suffer from chaffing, rubbing and the horrors
of all our pants (Especially sweats) getting worn out between our thighs long
before anything else. It’s definitely a #firstworldproblem but I still wish
there was a twelve step program or support group hotline or somebody I could call when I had a
really frustrating moment dealing with it. Maybe Sting could put together a
telethon for all us non-gap girls to bring awareness to the situation? Well, it’s
either that or a Tumblr page.
Anyway, now that I was fully immersed in my PG program, I
found myself noticing other women at the gym who had this thigh gap and would
instantly become insanely jealous. I’d be slogging through twenty minutes on
the elliptical when I’d see a skinny girl in Lycra pass by and my inner voice
would start shrieking, “Oh my God, look at her gap. That’s amazing. I bet she
works out like, three hours a day, only drinks hot water with lemon and can wear
junior sizes in everything!”
It was like the more I tried to improve myself, the more I
found fault with myself. And the thigh gap was just the tip of the iceberg…so
to speak.
But don’t worry. This is no ‘thinspiration’ blog or anything…I’ve
made my choice. I’m all about being healthy and fitness not deprivation. I want
to be taken seriously as a pretty girl but I’m not willing to starve myself to
do it. So, a thigh gap just might be unattainable for someone built like me and
I will just have to learn to live with it…sweatpants be dammed!
But building muscles and toning up? That I could definitely do.
So the workouts continue…and so does the absurdity I call my dating life.
Tuesday night was no exception. It started out pretty
typically. I had hit the treadmill hard and run a mile (RUN NOT WALKED! AN
ENTIRE MILE! WHY AM I TEXT SHOUTING?! Because I’M EXCITED people, this is a big
spanking deal!) all by myself for the very first time.
High on brain chemicals and delusions of fitness grandeur I sauntered
like I was in a JAY-Z video all the way* to County Market a local grocery store
to stock up on more protein bars and veggie shakes (Yes. I have totally become that person now). Annnnd…that’s when a
random dude named Mike approached me. *(Confession, it was located right next
door)
I seriously have some kind of secret signal that goes off
when I enter a grocery store. Usually it’s right after I work out. I must seem
extra approachable or extremely lickable (I actually meant to type likeable but
what the hell lickable works too) or something.
Let me just break this down for you, shall I? Mike was a
good-looking, black man, mid-thirties, seemingly normal from afar until I got
closer and noticed he was a hot mess wrapped up in a giant RED FLAG! He was wearing
a dirty blue sweater with holes in it and a wooly knit cap that had seen better
days. Was that straw stuck on his hair? WTF? He looked me over and shouted out
a loud, “Damm, girl” as I cruised through the frozen food aisle.
Confused, I stopped, looked around and gave him my best
Robert De Niro impression. “Are you talking to me?” “Yeah, I’m talking to you
baby” he smiled across a row of frozen lasagna, “Whatcha doing? Is this your
store? You shop here? I’ve never seen you here before.”
“Uh, yeah, I come here sometimes after working out” I offered.
“Ok, cool, cool. You’re sexy.” He leered as he checked out my ass. “I’m Mike. I
wanna call you…can I get your number?”
And this is where things progressed from strange to really
weird. Now, don’t get the wrong idea, I’m totally down with the swirl, what I’m
not down with is hobo dating because while I clearly have issues I do have
standards so I tried to politely decline his offer as gently as possible. “Um,
I can’t give you my phone number…but, I…” (And this is where my relentless
people pleasing disease kicked in with a vengeance) “I can give you my email.” What??! My email? Now I’m the weirdo. Who gives out their email to some
random dude who wants to hit it from the back before he rambles home to his collection
of cardboard and dirty blankets under the freeway underpass? I am totally ridiculous
sometimes. Luckily, he was kinda deaf.
“Oh, you’re married?” He looked concerned. Apparently he had
standards too. “No, email.” I clarified.
“I can give you my email.” Why didn’t I say I was married? That was an easy
out. Idiot! His face was blank but I kept going like the
dork I am. “Um, no, no, my email.” There was no recognition at all. Nothing.
Zero. “Email?” I tried again. “ Like…” (Typing type hand movements) “Clickity-clack…you
know…like on the computer?”
“Oh, the computer?” He finally got it. “Yeah, no…I don’t
know any computer stuff. I don’t have one. I don’t know the email.”
The email. I stared at him, momentarily confused. He did not
know how to use a computer. Now, I knew, of course that there must be some
people on the planet who did not. But they are usually well over the age of
sixty. Or they live in a cave or in the middle of The Amazon Rainforest. I on
the other hand, live in a middle class world where even second graders get
IPADs for Christmas. I’m not being snotty about this. Obviously I understand
not having fundage for a computer. However, the library is free and its chock
full of peeps who don’t actually own a computer but even they know how to use
one!
The irony of the situation was not lost on me. I really have no business whatsoever even talking to a dude who can’t use a computer…when I
am professional writer for Gods sake! I was momentarily distracted beating
myself up for this when I suddenly realized that he had given me yet another
brilliant out. “Oh, too bad…well, it was nice meeting you Mike” I started to
sneak away towards the safety of the Dairy section.
But he was persistent. I gotta give him points for that. “I’m
gonna look for you every time I’m here and Ima gonna call you when I get my
phone back.” He declared.
Get your phone back? What? Why don’t you have it? What
happened? Was it on layaway? Or worse…at a pawn shop? Oh, hell no! This is not
my future husband. "Walk away, walk away right now!” I told myself.
So, I just started smiling and nodding my head as I crept
towards the comfort of yogurt and butter. “As soon as I get it back, Ima call
you!” “Ok, you do that Mike. Bye now!” I shouted, hoping that my cheery face
was covering up the panic in my voice.
I should have just left the store right then but I kept
shopping. So, that means that…you got it! I kept running into him. Over &
over. Twice more I ran into him and both times he kept reassuring me, “I’m
going to call you! As soon as I get my phone back…I am calling you for sure!”
Weary and disoriented by the whole interaction I actually found myself giving
him a thumbs-up at one point, as if to say, “Good job! That sounds like a plan,
mister!”
My swagger was clearly gone. I needed to check out and take
my sexy sweatiness home before I did any more permanent damage to my psyche.
Clearly the thigh gap wasn’t the only thing I had to worry
about. The actual gap between the type of men I should be dating and the guys I
was actually attracting was appalling. It’s as if I was God’s own private little
joke. Ha Ha God, sooo funny! Hope you enjoyed that!
In more encouraging news…I am actually racking up some
pretty girl discounts! I know…how great is that? Granted, they are just small
timey ones but still…I got a 10% discount on a puppy beaded bookmark (for my
mom thank you very much, I’m not twelve. But apparently I think she is.) and a book on juicing at Barnes & Noble. I
got an extra espresso shot for free plus some really cute swirly designs on my
latte at Pekara Bakery “Just because” and
I was bumped to the front of the line at Forever 21 and given a student
discount…even though I’m not actually a student! Sweet!
Baby steps people, baby steps. Now I just got to work on
upgrading my men…so, yup…I finally bit the bullet, swallowed my pride and signed
up for online dating.
And… it’s already hella
weird. So stay tuned for my next post...it’s gonna be epic!
