The Fat Chick Nod

When I first moved to the U.S., one of my closest friends was a dude named Nkosi, whom we called Kosi for short. He was tall, black, lanky, and beautiful, and gave me piggy back rides in the snow. He also rolled me my first spliff, left it-- brown and fat--in my locker at school.

Everytime Kosi and I would go down to NYC, he would always do the "Black Person Nod": nod at black people when they walked by; and they'd do the same. I always wished my eyebrows were big enough to do an Arab Person Nod. Or that Arabs were easily identified.

I'd examine actors' noses, eyebrows, last name vowel placement, for the sign of Arabness: Marisa Tomei: Arab, not Arab? Tony Shalhoub? Yes! Kathy Najimi? Yes! Dave Attel? Yes! Adam Sandler? No! (But, interestingly, he is, according to my dad, the only Jewish guy I'm allowed to marry.)

Part of the great thing about being a person of size is that you easily identify with your tribe. You can be standing in a crowd and already you have a huge (no pun intended) affinity with the other fat people in that crowd.

I was walking down S. Congress today to get a cup of Joe and a smoke, and I saw a fat chick sitting on the steps in front of the car dealership. I nodded & smiled. She nodded & smiled. We did this nod & smile simultaneously. We did the fat chick nod!

That particular woman on the steps today was fixing the heel on her cute quasi-stripper shoes, which brings me to my main point.

Not all fat girls do the fat girl nod: only fat girls that wear lip gloss, jewelry, tight tops, unique accessories, and put energy into their hair and shoes participate in such a nod. It's like the Hot Fat Chick Nod, really; the nod fat chicks who know they're hot because they're so full and buxom and goddamn sexy do.

So if you're full, fat and fly, double-chin up. Do the nod. And smile.

Miracle Girl Survives Tsunami On Door

from the AP.

and when the eleventh bird flew over
ignoring me
i shouted out that i would still float over
the wooden door
even though sometimes
the waves lulled me to sleep
and in my dreams
the ocean would knock
and i'd open the door to see
who it was
and it was always a sea snake
come to take me down.
i'd wake up and lock the wet latch
on the door
silly i know
pointless to lock a floating door
superstitious even
call it whatever you like
in the end i shut myself out
or in, depending on your view
and kept my eye on land
and it's how i came home.