Drive-Thru Activism —

I had a weird experience on Saturday night in the Taco Bell drive-thru, but it ultimately turned out pretty positive.

As I pull into the parking lot, I notice three young women standing near the side of the road, which is fairly unusual for this part of town at this time of night. The drive-thru line is long, so I pull up and wait, when I notice the three women run toward the drive-thru.

I think nothing of it until one of them reaches my window and says, “Hi there.”

For me, this is unusual.

I am not a ladies’ man in the least. I can definitely be flirtatious, but my experience as a sexual object in the eyes of a woman is rare, to say the least. Before I married Veronica, I relied on my humor and personality to break through a woman’s reluctance to consider me a potential mate. The idea that a woman would approach me out of any physical attraction is as foreign to me as another man approaching me for help working on a car or building a house.

So, when this traditionally attractive woman appeared at my window and said “Hi,” I was immediately suspicious. One of her friends stood slightly behind her, while the third held back completely. “We just came from Bob’s Bar” [I've changed the name, obviously] “and we’re trying to get some food, but the drive-thru won’t serve us. Can we ride with you?”

I contemplate the calculus before me. These women have obviously been drinking and seemed sincere, but this could be some kind of scam. Some sort of “jump in your car and rob you at the drive-thru” scam I hadn’t heard about. But I knew that was probably just my paranoia speaking, so I said sure.

Now, you are probably thinking “What the hell were those women thinking? You could be a psycho killer!”

Indeed, I could have been a psycho killer and these women were putting themselves in harm’s way, but since I know I’m not a psycho killer (qu’est-ce que c’est), I figured it would be better for them to ride with me than to ask another car and find any actual psycho killer.

So, the first friend (we’ll call her Jill) jumped in the front seat and the second friend (we’ll call her Jane) jumped into Linny’s carseat in the back. Both Jill and Jane had kids and we swapped stories about them as we waited. Then, suddenly, Jill jumped out and left. A minute later, the third friend (let’s call her Tina) walked up.

Tina was slightly chubby, but that’s it. I offered her the front seat and she said, “No thanks, I’ll walk.” She was the most cautious (and sensible) of the three and did not want to put herself in harms way, so as we edged our way forward, she talked to us by the side of the car.

I asked if she had any kids (since her friends did) and she said no, but she didn’t want any yet because she was only 24. I told her to take her time and enjoy life and freedom while she was young. I explained that my wife and I had our first child together when she was 34 (I had Methuselah when I was 21) and that she had plenty of time to decide whether she wanted a family or not.

She then told me about her successful career as a professor at two nearby colleges and how she owned her own home. She was confident and proud and seemed to have a level head on her shoulder. But when we got closer to ordering, Jane asked her what she wanted and she said, “I don’t know.”

Tina hemmed and hawed and kept saying, “I want something healthy. I don’t normally eat fast food. I want something healthy.”

I said, “Well, have you tried the chicken bacon club chalupa? It’s really good.” It’s on fried flatbread, but it’s chicken and lettuce, so it can’t be all that terrible? Plus, when you’re already drinking, the fried flatbread can really be a lifesaver.

“No, that’s fried. I want something healthy.”

Sensing an opportunity, I said, “Well, it doesn’t matter so much what you eat for your health as whether you exercise. Exercise has the bigger impact on health.”

Behind me, Jane agreed. “Yeah, girl, working out is what matters.”

“You can eat a chalupa and still be healthy,” I said.

“I want to eat healthy,” she repeated. “Just not at this size,” she said gesturing to her body.

“There’s nothing wrong with your size,” I told her. “Health has nothing to do with weight. If you want to be healthy, you need to eat right and exercise. Having a chalupa won’t make you unhealthy unless you’re living off of them.”

She mumbled a few things, then said, “I’m going to look for Jill.”

I could tell that this was a troubling topic for her, as it is for many in-betweenies.

So, Jane started talking about how she agreed that health and weight are unrelated and how much bullshit all the hype about obesity was.

DING DING DING!!!!

“Have you heard of Health at Every Size?” I asked. She hadn’t, so I explained the basic concepts to her. I explained how dieting failed in 95% of the cases. How Dr. Blair explained how simple exercise needed to be in order to be effective. How Dr. Flegal dismantled the over-hyped mortality rates. I told her about shredding MeMe Roth and the building acceptance of Dr. Bacon’s approach to health. Thankfully, the slow drive-thru line facilitated a brief, yet thorough bit of Fat Acceptance evangelism.

The whole time Jane seemed genuinely shocked, interested and amused by the information I relayed. She backed up what I spoke of with anecdotes about her mother and grandmother, both of whom were heavier than her, but who received clean bills of health from their respective doctors. She told me about how her friends and family gave her trouble because she was short, but voluptuous, and that they expected her to be petite all around because of her stature. She talked about how she had tried dieting and gave up.

Finally, I told her about FierceFatties.com and she said she would check it out (although, due to the intoxication, I’m sure she forgot already).

We finally got our food and when we left the drive-thru, we drove around the parking lot looking for her friends. They were gone. (Yeah, I know, way to keep an eye on your drunk friend in the car of a complete stranger!)

I asked if she wanted me to drive her back to Bob’s Bar and she agreed. I took her back and when she got out she stood by my window and thanked me, the top of her head only reaching the top of our car window.

“Wow, you really are short!” I said, and we both laughed. When she walked away, I saw that she wasn’t fat at all and whoever had told her otherwise was grossly mistaken.

Despite all the bad things that could have happened, it turned out to be a great opportunity to share the Fat Acceptance message with somebody who already understood the basic concepts. And if I were a betting man, I’d say that a good portion of the population is just as ready as Jane to hear this message.

So, don’t hold back! Listen when people talk about their bodies and share what you have learned. You never know how your message will be received!