Being bullied is not new to me. I have been overweight most of my life and have heard my fair share of chubby and fat remarks. I thought when I went to college that the maturity level would rise, and the amount of bullying would fall. My couple years here have proven me wrong.
The fact that I can vividly remember at least five events of a student saying something about my weight is appalling. Being in college, the term “bullying” seems inappropriate and juvenile. This is no longer a kid in 7th grade being made fun of because he or she can’t fit in Abercrombie, or a student in gym class being called a “fat hamburger” when running. What happens on our campus is a lack of consideration.
I decided to finally write about this after an incident at a bar uptown a few weeks ago. It was a Friday night and I was out with my parents and my friends. We went downstairs at the bar because we did not like the music upstairs. To our disappointment, the downstairs was closed, but some off-duty employees were down there. My friends and I went over to the bar and the employees were doing shots. We asked if we could have one, they said yes. After we did a shot all together, my friends went back upstairs. I, however, did not see them leave, and out of nowhere remarks about me and my body started coming. The four guys stood there, blocking the door to go back upstairs, calling me a number of things from “chubby bunny” to profanity. Shocked, I walked the other way and went into a stairway that doubled as a maintenance closet. I had two choices: I could walk out the back door and ignore them, or stand up, fight back and risk getting kicked out. After 10 minutes of listening to their rude, idiotic and inconsiderate banter, I chose the latter. All it took was for me to say that I was going to speak to the manager for them to stop. Obviously infuriated, I went back upstairs and explained to my roommate what happened. She approached the guys and one’s response to her was, “Yeah, I said it. You are fat too.” After pouring his beer on her, we were nicely asked by the door guy to not come back.
I’m sorry. You are asking me to not come back to a place that treats me like this? A place where employees can call patrons “bitches” and pour beer on them with no consequence? You are actually telling me I am unwelcome there?
Why am I the one who has to take the blame? If I am ever rude, call me rude. If I am simply out on a Friday, don’t call me fat for no reason. I’m sorry, but you have lost my friends’ and my business. I can find a Mega Mug elsewhere.
Addie Von Den Benken is a senior studying journalism at Ohio University.
