You know I’m all about supporting local businesses as much as possible, be it farmers, food producers, restaurants, crafters, etc. This conviction plays a large role in the work I do, since I primarily write about locally-owned restaurants and bars. It played an even bigger role in where Brian and I chose to live. One of Prettytown’s biggest draws to us was the fact that it’s loaded with locally-owned indie businesses that are encouraged by the town’s government and populice.

Most of you are well aware that I’m insanely vocal when I find an indie business I love. I will drive people crazy, nagging them to visit such businesses.

Likewise, if a business or someone financially affiliated with it does something that goes against what I believe to be decent, I’m going to let people know.

There’s a business whose praises I have sang since the day they opened. I’ve drug just about everyone I know there, from my parents to local friends to out-of-town guests. I’ve sent their products to friends as gifts. I’ve written about them by choice for a local publication.

I haven’t been there in awhile because of the craziness of my schedule since I was given all that new work at the RFT a few months ago. You know, work writing about local restaurants.

Funny thing is, Clara Jane was complaining the other day that we hadn’t visited this business in a long time. We planned to go there today.

Then last night happened.

I was on Twitter, and I read a message from someone affiliated with this business that made my head explode:

Hoping a fat person doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many big folks

My head exploded.

If your head feels just fine and you’re confused as to all the grey matter flying about, let me ask how you would respond to any of these messages:

Hoping a black person doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many dark folks

Hoping a woman doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many bitches

Hoping a disabled person doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many cripples.

Hoping a gay person doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many faggots

Hoping a mentally impaired person doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many retards

Hoping an old person doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many geezers.

Hoping a foreigner doesn’t have the seat next to me on my flight from ATL to STL. Watching everyone as they board. Too many non-Americans.

Are any of those statements acceptable? Absolutely no way in hell. So why is it acceptable to make such a statement about fat people?

Now, if you’re going to tell me that fat people infringe on personal space on a plane … I’ve sat next to plenty of obnoxious people of all sizes on planes and trains. People who disregard carry-on limits and rules. Or talk loudly. Or lean over seats to talk. Or drive the flight attendant crazy with a bunch of requests. Or yell at their kids. Or sneak dogs on board in their purse (that was my most recent flight). Or pass out drunk across the person in the next seat.

Trust me, obnoxious behavior is in no way limited to fatties like me. Just like the beautiful human race, obnoxiousness comes in all shapes and sizes.

When I fly, I’m hyper-aware of my size. I spend insane amounts of time on airline websites, staking out the seat where I’m least likely to interfere with another passenger. Little plane with single seats on one side fill me with so much relief, just because I know I won’t be offending a seatmate. Traveling with Clara Jane’s a relief. Even though it’s hard to fly with a kid, to me it’s balanced by the relief of knowing my blubber will bleeding into her seat and not someone elses.

When I do have to sit next to a stranger, I’m always – always – greeted with a look of disappointment. To which I have spent plenty of flights wrapped into the tightest ball my body will allow. Not for my own comfort, but for the comfort of others who don’t even like me in the first place.

One of the last times I flew, I stole the seat belt extender, just so I don’t have to go through asking for one. Flight attendents have always been super-polite when I’ve asked for them in the past, but I see the looks.

Flying is pretty much the only time in which I feel bad about myself because of my size. Going to the beach or pool in a swimsuit? Dancing at a concert? Chasing my kid through a park?  Those are nothing compared to getting on a plane.

Once I pieced my exploded head back into something capable of semi-coherent thought, my anger took over.

I only mentioned the business by Twitter ID once, and never by name. No need to spread their name all over the place. It doesn’t matter now, because the issue’s been resolved. But I made it known that such remarks, even when not related directly to the business, are deal-breakers for me.

I will not give my money to a business in which someone with a financial interest would be miffed at having to sit next to me on a plane.

I just can’t do it. Not in good conscious.

The responses started today, publicly on Twitter.

I’m sorry if my post offended. No need to take it out on [the business].

To which I said, “I think you’re missing the point. To sell fattening food but disparage fat people is not only rude but hypocritical. If you’re truly concerned about health issues, don’t sell face-sized cinnamon rolls. Besides, I’m not going to give my $ to a business owned by anyone who publicly disparages any whole group of people.”

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disparage anyone. It was wrong of me to be so insensitive. Just don’t take it out on my already … [elipse is his]

And I said, “I wouldn’t buy from a business linked to someone who publicly makes racist statements. This is no different. Except this is much more personally disappointing because I thought you were kinder than that.”

I called this the “hazards” of buying local for a reason. I’ve run into similar situations before. I’ve had lots of businesses where I’ve been a regular. I make friends easily, but the fact is, it’s hard to be friends and do business because the two always get entwined. It’s inevitable that I’ll see something in the business that I don’t like, or someone in the business will see something in me they don’t like. And then what?

Damn. Maybe I’m just an asshole.

Suddenly, going to Starbucks, Applebee’s, and Wal-Mart doesn’t seem so bad. Do your business without any of that icky personal connection.

(That said, I do stop at the Starbucks inside Target when I shop there, and I adore the barista who’s always there. No, I’m not 100% locavore. It’s damn near impossible.)

So yes, I was personally hurt. I know a lot of other people who have frequented this business who would also be hurt by such comments.

It’s an ongoing discussion that’s finally starting to veer into some of the territory I covered at the beginning of this post:

I realize it was unkind to say I didn’t want them to sit next to me on the plane. I’m sorry b/c I value you a friend & I hurt you

To which I get completely post-modern and start whittling down a blog entry I haven’t yet posted into 140 characters or less: “Would you say that you don’t want an African-Am. person sitting next to you? A gay person? A foreigner? How is it different?”

It’s a space issue. I feel more cramped. It’s really about big poeple. A ripped football player would get the same reaction.

“But you said “fat people”. Not “rippled football player”.

Oh English language … fuck you. I love you and your intricacies and never-ending possibilities. Which is also why I hate you. I also hate that words like “ripped” sometimes look like “rippled” and make me look sillier than I already am.

Fact is, 140 characters or less can make anyone look like a fool. I’m really glad Twitter wasn’t around when I had my catering business, because I’m sure I would have pissed off a client at some point or another.

I’m ready for “fat” to stop being an insult. There are more and more fat people in this country with every passing year, like it or not. Judgement and hatred’s not going to change that. If anything, judgement and hatred will make it worse. Because the funny thing is, some – not all because damn if there aren’t lots of factors that play into how every human being is shaped and physically formed – some fat people have a particular reaction to feeling bad – they eat!

I’m so tired of it all. Let’s just all live in our bodies, let everyone else live in their bodies, and not give a fuck about it, okay? Why is that so hard?

I’m extremely lucky in that I know why I’m fat. I’ve got an excellent doctor who’s worked with me to get to the root of why I can eat like a bird, run my ass off, and still gain weight (polycystic ovarian syndrome). Although I do love food. I’m a food writer, for God’s sake. I also know that on one recent assignment, when presented with a bacon cheeseburger of pornographic proportions, I ate about 1/3 of it and was so full I wanted to take a nap. It was so much food I didn’t take my leftovers.

And see how, when threatened, I automatically feel the need to defend what I put in my mouth?

Today I had three small pancakes with a little fake butter and syrup and one small sausage patty (which is so far from a normal breakfast for me, which is normally whole-grain cereal, but it was Breakfast with Santa at my kid’s school), along with a cup of coffee, no sugar, splash of 2% milk. Snacktime, a 16 ounce latte which probably had whole milk because I was helping Clara Jane with her order and forgot to specify. Lunch was a burger with one slice of provolone, a tablespoon of avocado, red onion, romaine lettuce, a tomato slice, a handful of fries (no ketchup) and water, which stuffed me to the gills and will lead to a small dinner of whole-wheat pasta, marinara, and a bit of good-quality Parmesan.

Is that okay with everyone? I’m hanging out with friends tonight and there might be some junk food. I’ve heard mention of Rotel dip and empty cocktail calories. I’m sure I’ll partake in both. Would anyone like to flog me now, or are we going to wait until later?

I’m also lucky in that I haven’t dealt with being judged based on my size very often. It happens so rarely that when I do see something that smacks of fat phobia, it shocks me. Really, I guess that’s a good thing. Things that happen all the time aren’t shocking. I know not everyone is so lucky, and there’s a hell of a lot of cruelty aimed at people because of size.

In the course of writing this, I’ve gotten an apology, which I appreciate greatly. I’m glad we were publicly able to pick apart the situation and resolve it.

Will I buy from someone who disparages whole groups of people? No.

Will I buy from someone who’s willing to listen, take a deeper look into a situation, learn from it, and apologize? Absolutely.

In buying local, there’s always a lot of talk of the perks of having a relationship with producers/farmers/proprietors. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any mention of the fact that while these relationships are good things and preferable to the nameless, faceless anamatronic motions that often pass for “service”, they’re still relationships, and relationships are hard.