pretty girls make graves

On Friday night, I hung out with a good friend and her friend, somebody I don't know particularly well but like. We had one of those exceedingly heavy nights where light-hearted conversation was nowhere to be found. At some point during the night, Z. says something along the lines of, "You're attractive. I bet that's made things easy for you." Whoah. I replied that, in actuality, the window of time with which I've been considered an "attractive" person has been relatively small and I often feel uncomfortable with comments about my appearance. Which then went into a whole different conversation about self-worth and accepting compliments an so on.
But I've actually been thinking quite a bit about the original comment, the perception that if you are attractive, life might be easier. I won't deny that there have been times where I have capitalized on my appearance. I've gotten a free drink or two in my time. I got to use the riding lawn mower during military days because the person in charge thought I was attractive while the rest of the guys had to lug around weed whackers. But again, I have never been "ideal" or fit into social models of attractiveness. And frankly have suffered because of that, fatness is probably the last totally acceptable form of discrimination.
I wish none of this mattered. I wish I didn't know that yes, in fact, being pretty is a benefit. I wish I didn't know how much my social standing is directly related, though inversely proportional, to my weight and pant size. I wish that I didn't have to worry about losing fifteen to twenty pounds to get a date. I wish that I have often thought that if I lost an arm or leg, I could go on with my life but if my face were disfigured I would want it to end.
So what to do about it?

there can only be one

I am a tactical observer of life. I know this to be true. I am always watching and evaluating, trying to piece together seemingly random occurences into my own postulations and eventually arriving at some pseudo-science sociological theory of behavior patterns. And I've come to one theory recently that I believe to be fairly accurate. And that is this; that girls at parties predominantly attended by gay men do not like to interact with one another. Now, one would assume that these girls WOULD hang out with one another because people often search out those that they often immediately identify with, in order to faciliate a modicum of comfortability. But I have noticed that this isn't the case, girls at such parties seem more like competing carnivores circling a herd of prey than a band of brethern (sisteren?). They mostly ignore one another while marking their territory, claiming rights to their friend groups. It's fierce and competitive this staking of hag-domain. I would almost daresay that it's even more competitive than girls seeking a lover. Because, well let's face it, in the world of relationships in the city, a gay man-straight girl combo has way more staying power.