I’m a large, yet short individual. By the standards of our skinny-obsessed culture, I’m not much to look at. I’m nearly as round as I am tall! Fortunately, my husband enjoys women of all shapes and sizes.
But one of the things that drive attractiveness is how rare a commodity actually is. Thus, when one isn’t around a person of the opposite sex much, then anybody looks good. Think about the Wild West days. If you were a woman out west, you were a hot commodity. Even the most dour, un-handsome woman would find herself a plethora of suitors, especially if she could cook.
Things aren’t much different in the trucking world. Women are few and far between. When a man sees a woman out here in the trucking wilderness, he smiles, gives a “How do” and holds the door open for her. It doesn’t matter what she looks like. Men get chivalrous and helpful. They miss contact with the feminine half of the population and will gladly gab our ears off, if we let them.
Like the Wild West days, men search for a partner to join them on their trucks and when they see a woman driver alone, they wonder if she could be a candidate. They want someone to help them, someone to cook, someone to help them pass the time, someone who can help them make more money. Oh, and sex probably fits in there, too, somewhere.
Those who have women waiting for them at home still are happy to meet a woman on the road because for whatever reason, men feel they can talk with them about all the personal things that they won’t talk to their male counterparts about. I end up a quasi-therapist as I listen to all the troubles a guy is having with his teen daughter or his wife. I don’t usually mind, though sometimes I honestly just wanna eat without listening to everyone’s sob story, thank you very much.
For all these reasons and probably more, I get all kinds of attention from the guys I meet on the road. The attention is awfully darn nice. I can’t remember the last time a guy flirted with me under regular circumstances when I wasn’t trucking. As a fat person, I’m invisible. Our culture doesn’t value us. Which is incredible, considering over a third of the American population is morbidly obese. Seems like there is a disconnect there, but that’s another post for another day.
But deep in the heart of the trucking wilderness, I’m valuable, even if I’m fat and snaggle-toothed and smell like a goat because I haven’t showered in three days. I get flirted with. I feel attractive. It’s nice.
I’m sure there’s a lesson in there somewhere, but I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about what it might be.