The Problem with "Skinny:" don't fucking talk to me in a cvs.

Alright my lovelies,
Some clerical things:
I've been thinking (dangerous, I know), plotting really. I intend to do a weekly posting and I think, at least until I find my rhythm here, each month will have a topic. Since I've already started talking about bodies, this month's topic will be bodies.
I'd like to take you on a journey into the past with me now.

Hop on in. Buckle up.

We're not going far, just a quick jaunt into the past. About last Monday to be precise. We're in a cvs. And since we're in a cvs that means I am sick, because no one goes to a cvs willingly in good health. You're either sick, about to be sick, or getting over being sick. (Or you need tampons, like.. an hour ago) In any case, no one wants to be in cvs and certainly on this day I was not an exception to this rule.  My girlfriend had spent approximately the last 18 hours wrenching her guts out at all hours of the day and night.

It was nothing like this. It was exactly like this.

 And we're standing in the cracker and cookie aisle while she stares, half longingly, half fearfully, at all the things she may or may not be able to keep inside of her.  I have a migraine to beat all migraines and am fighting desperately to stay upright. I'm winning, but it's a close thing.  Suddenly, a man appears in the aisle, I'm not sure how he got there or how long he's been there. But then he's talking to us? Certainly he's talking to the aisle and we're the only other people here so I assume he's talking to me. Damn. Why me?
"Did you guys see any bagged popcorn around here?" Okay benign enough, polite enough. Maybe this won't kill me.
I reply, because my gf isn't going to.
"Uhm.." (I'm really a bright girl, guys) I look around a bit, I don't even eat popcorn, it's not on my radar.
"No, I haven't seen any." I say smiling politely.
And I have to assume that smiling politely was my mistake. Society tells me I've brought this upon myself (obviously).
The man, who is basically middle of the bell curve white guy wearing a t-shirt and jeans, turns back to the food stuffs and ignores me. And I think:

I'm in the clear! Social interaction over! Crisis averted!

Wrong. So, so, so, wrong.

He turns back to me, and he seems more manic than he did a few seconds ago.
"What's it like being skinny? I forget." And then, you guys, he stares at me. HE WAITS FOR A FUCKING RESPONSE TO A QUESTION LIKE THAT.  And being the barely upright, good little southern girl I am: I fain a small laugh and fucking fake a smile. I am honestly not sure what about this interaction upsets me more.
Scratch that I do know. I am upset that my immediate response was not "Kindly fuck off, Sir."

I am so beyond angry with myself that my knee jerk response is to please some random jackass over making myself feel comfortable, or in control of the situation.
 Because that's what women do right?

Even the Slayer is a good girl and takes a compliment.
Nod, smile, be cute, boob shimmy. Not too much don't be a whore, Buff.

That's what I've been programmed to do: to let people objectify me, and nod and smile while it happens. To tell myself: "he's just trying to be nice to you, he's trying to give you a compliment. Take the compliment, don't be rude."

I should have said:
"Shut your damn piehole. My body is not an appropriate topic for small talk or any talk. My body is not yours to comment on no matter how good or bad you may think it looks. How dare you presume to know how I feel about my shape, or if I consider 'skinny' to be a compliment. Which you've proven you think it is, it is not. You are rude. How dare you single me out on the basis of weight. Do you ask Black men what it's like to be Black? I am sure you do not."
Just because the media inundates images of women that are skinny that has made this poor smuck think that it's alright to single a woman out in cvs for her weight and think it's some sort of compliment, doesn't mean that I didn't suffer the whole way through middle and high school for the body I'm in.

Dear that guy:

The fact is that anyone on any end of the bell curve is othered. That's how difference works. So, until you've been a size zero or a size thirty, until you've been othered, you sit there with your invisible backpack and be quiet. There is no easier. We are all othered for something. Remember that feeling the next time you think it's cool to comment on some one's body. It's not cool. It's rude. It's othering. Stop it.

I know someone out there right now is thinking "But, A. That guy legit thinks this is a compliment, society says that being skinny is good and confers specialness upon you like grace from heaven because we can discern your sternum!" And you're right. I'm sure somewhere along the lines someone has looked at me and subconsciously thought "Ah, there's a nice skinny girl! I'mma be nice to her because skinny reasons."
I have exactly one response to your thought and that mystery person who may be privileging me because of skinny.
 You ready? Here it is. It's pretty effing great. Let's say it to ourselves like a mantra. over and over.

NO OBJECTIFICATION WITH OUT REPRESENTATION MOTHER FUCKERS

Certainly don't rub in my face that you're objectifying me.

Basing an interaction with a person based solely on their body or one aspect of their body is objectification. There are lots of forms of objectification, some more glaring than others. Maybe you don't see it here, but oh, it's there. Thinking I'm special for my body is objectification. It's reducing me down to one thing-- skinniness. I AM A WHOLE WEALTH OF ADJECTIVES, SKINNY IS BY AND FAR NOT THE MOST PARAMOUNT OF THEM. And if you, Oh Sir in the cvs, were bothering to treat me like a person you might realize that. Or at least have the decency to realize your input was not wanted or valid. But instead you prioritized your own motives over mine and made me feel uncomfortable and all around shittier.

 Stop dehumanizing me. It's not flattering. It's not a compliment. It doesn't make me want to nod and smile. It makes me feel horrible. It makes me feel unable to enforce my own comfort levels and personal boundaries. It's no more right for you to comment on my thinness than it is for someone to comment on fatness. Just because society deems it "good" to be skinny doesn't make it not objectification when your only interaction with me is to narrow me down to my thinness. Asking me what it's like being skinny in a cvs is no different than yelling "nice tits!" at me out a car window. 100% not cool.

Objectification is never a privilege. 

A very special thanks to L for helping me make this post amazing and not a deranged rant. Well, less of a deranged rant anyway. You tried. I'm grateful.