The Lament of the Ogrish Man

When I was in college, after witnessing a particularly zealous undertaking of "Take Back the Night" involving roving gangs of women with torches and baseball bats, I resolved to make an effort to minimize any fear or anxiety I might unknowingly inflict on the fairer sex.

Walking about campus, I noticed that if ever I happened to be going the same direction as a young woman, especially if she was alone, her body language and expression indicated to me that she felt she was being pursued. In such a circumstance, I would usually change my speed to an uncomfortably slow walk so that she could outdistance me easily. Often, I would take roundabout lengthy paths to my destination in an effort to avoid "following" someone.

Now I was never sure exactly why I received a default label of "creepy" or "dangerous." I feel like a nice, friendly guy. I've always been larger than most people, but not "Aieee! A giant!" big. I even thought that getting a little older, pudgier, and balder would give me a more "lived-in" look, and would thus be more comfortable. No luck.

I work on the third floor of a building, and when I leave for lunch, I must pass the elevators to get to the stairs (which I diligently favor in hopes of reining in the pudginess). Quite often, there will be a woman (not anyone in particular, this happens with everyone) waiting for the elevator, and I smile meekly as I pass her on the way to the stairs. Without fail, she responds with an expression of thinly veiled horror at the thought I might actually take the elevator with her. Or grab her and throw her down the stairs or something. I'm not kidding. I mean, it could be just a reaction to my hideousness. I'm sure I might act the same if someone with seeping open sores all over their face approached me. But I really don't think I'm scream-out-loud hideous. Plain, at worst. Is there such a thing as Anti-Charisma? Maybe I have that.

Now, as I decide whether to seriously consider a healthier diet, I need to determine which is scarier: A 280 pound slightly unhealthy monster, or a 240 pound healthy one. I don't want to give up my Grilled Stuft Burritos if it will only serve to make me more terrifying.