So I'm starting to come down from my 1.2 second meeting with Rick Springfield. I'm down enough to remember that there was a concert on Friday night that I enjoyed thoroughly! He puts on such a high energy show, you can't even qualify it by saying, "For a guy who's 60." Nah, for any guy, he puts on a great show, and Friday was no exception!
Since I was sitting in the second row of the balcony, however, my attention was not as focused on Rick as it would have been if I'd been in the second row on the floor. Which means I actually took a few moments to absorb impressions of the folks around me. (Hey, I'm an author, it's what I do.)
The group of women in front of me really caught my attention, not because they were wearing glow in the dark bunny ears (those ladies were sitting to my right) and not because they had a blow up dog dressed as Ron, the dog on the cover of Rick's "Working Class Dog" album. (those ladies had seats on the main floor.) No, what struck me about the women in front of me was the fact that there were two very skinny ladies and one...fluffy girl.
You see this all the time, but especially at concerts. In a group of women, there will be at least one girl who is a bit more...healthy. (I'm that person in my group, so I get to write this without offending anyone.) I've always wondered if the fluffy girl feels like a fifth wheel or anything like that. I know I do sometimes, which is probably why I make up for it by being a bit louder a bit funnier, a bit more jovial.
As I watched these three women I realized that I was looking at this all wrong. The fluffy girl isn't the tag along. She's not the one the Barbie dolls have to bring along. She's the anchor! She's the most important person in the group. Again, she's the anchor!
What do I mean? Easy. Sitting in the balcony, Barbie one and Barbie two were slamming plastic cups of white wine at a pace well beyond their weight class. And, since they were precariously perched on spiked heels built for altitude, as they got tipsy, they started wobbling as they leaned on the railing of the balcony. Leaning to the point of nearly falling into the laps of the partiers below.
Fluffy girl to the rescue!
She steadied both those Barbies and kept them from crashing over the railing several times during the concert. She helped them out of their seats after the concert and I'm sure she drove them home and tucked them into their beds.
So, thinking about it, I realized that every group of Barbies needs a fluffy girl to act as an anchor so when the Barbies play too hard, the fluffy girl protects them from harm.
If you are a Barbie, be kind to your Fluffy girl friend. She's the one you'll be leaning on someday. If you are a Fluffy girl, I salute you! You are my sister, and this world needs more of you! (And, by the way, I wrote Dream in Color with the Fluffy girls in mind.)