Turning Heads

I am a fifty-year-old fat cow who hasn't turned heads in about thirty years. Back when I was a babe and my measurements were 36-26-36 I turned a few. But add thirty years and [redacted] pounds and nobody gives you a second glance. And probably wishes the first one had never happened. There are some things you just can't unsee.

In the last couple weeks, however, I've discovered a way to turn heads again. Maybe not for the reason they once did, but they're turning. I've started walking around the block in my neighborhood again. It's about 3/4 mile. Because of my health and what rotten shape I'm in, I can't make it all the way in one go. About halfway around, I am saved by a utility box that is just the right size for me to sit on and rest.

The first time I did that, I had fun looking at the cars that were going by. There weren't a whole lot of them, but there were enough to keep things interesting. Then I started looking at the people inside the cars. All of them turned their heads to look at me. Every last one except for one guy who was talking on his cell phone. I bet they were thinking, "Why is that crazy lady sitting on a utility box?"

When I was rested, I got up and started walking again, taking special note of people's heads in the cars that went by. Not one of them turned.

So now when I sit down to rest during my walks, I can experience again what it feels like to turn heads. Even if it's not for the same reason as thirty years ago, it's better than nothing. An old lady has to take what she can get.