“Husky”


Listen, I might be a bit strange, but when I go shopping for clothes, I like to be treated with respect and dignity, not rudeness.  For all of you, this sudden outburst of anger might seem to have come out of nowhere.  So, in order to clarify, I will explain why I am so angry.  This week, in Spanish Class, we were discussing vocabulary.  Specifically, vocabulary that describes people’s physical qualities.  Soon enough, we came to the topic of weight and it was all pretty straightforward: Gordo for fat, delgado for thin, lardo for eats too much bacon.  But knowing me, I just had to make a joke.  I raised my hand and asked in my sweetest, most innocent tone: “Excuse me, but how do you describe someone who’s in the middle?  You know, like they’re husky?”  Hey, I’m not one to exaggerate, but people were rofl’ing and lmao’ing and even, if I dare say so myself, giggling a bit. However, my little joke, soon forgotten by the class, haunted me long after.  The word “husky was one that had frightened me for years, even scarier than Monsters Inc. (Seriously.  I spent that entire movie crying outside.  You know, when the little girl goes BOO, just pure terror.  Never again.)  Between the ages of six months and eleven months, three years and five years, and seven years and twelve years, whenever I went to buy clothes, the people would always say, in the most condescending tones possible: “Oh sweetie, I think that’s a bit too snug for you.  Why don’t you go over there, where dreams go to die and the tooth fairy is a serial rapist and try on some of the “husky” items of clothing?”  It was then that I would put my life in perspective.  At eleven months old, I decided I needed to exercise and took my first step, at five years old, I felt that I needed some other kind of comfort and had my first bourbon, and at twelve years old, I sat down with myself, give myself a hard slap across the face and told myself: “What do you think you are, some kind of Alaskan sleigh dog?  No, you’re a white Jewish kid who’s never ran in his life except to make it to Baskin Robbins before closing!  By Evel Knievel’s testicles of solid gold, get yourself together man!”  And get myself together I did.  I watched a lot of The Biggest Loser, I went to the gym once, I had a bite of a salad and then, two moths later, I returned to the same clothing store and bought a pair of pants.  Ok, they were husky, but its the effort that counts.  So, the other day in Spanish class, as I remembered the pain that the word “husky” had caused me, I could not help but feel angry again.  I probably would have had a nervous breakdown, were it not for this following image that comforted me in my darkest of times.  Keep it in your heart and it will guide you.

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About julian822

This blog is informal to say the least. It's almost like an online journal, filled with stories that I find funny, interesting things/links and anything else that comes to my mind. Enjoy.
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