DEAR ANDREA: I'm a plus-size person, and I plan to check out the book you mentioned in an earlier column, Big Big Love. It reminded me of a comeback I heard in the early '80s, from Lydia Lunch, the punk poet-singer and groovy good-size gal. She was asked how she liked being referred to as "ample," and she answered, "What's it to me if some guy can't get it up?"

Well put, I thought! At the time it was downright inspirational, and it still rings true today! It produces a really interesting, introspective look on the face of the man rude enough to express an unsolicited comment regarding a lack of desire due to a lady's largeness!

Love,
Go Girl

Dear Girl: Eeek! I remember Lydia Lunch, but I don't remember ever wanting to take etiquette lessons from her. I'm wondering if even the redoubtable Ms. Lunch, upon receiving unsolicited weight-loss advice, would have looked the offender straight in the face and snarled, "What's it to me if you can't get it up?" On second thought, of course she would, but she had few peers.

I love the idea of the snappy comeback, but I was raised to "Rise above, honey, rise above!" and "Never sink to their level" and "Don't complain and don't explain," which is slightly off topic, but hey, I was on a (mother-quoting) roll. Mostly, I'm with my mom – I can't help worrying that once people begin lashing back at every passing moron who opens his or her filthy hole, what's left of civilization will slide rapidly into the sea. Then again, we're talking about people making loud, crass, unsolicited comments about the sexual attractiveness of total strangers. How much less civilized can it get?

Love ,
Andrea

Dear Andrea, I love your column, but maybe I have a viewpoint you didn't consider for the (long-ago) big lonely lady (August 2001). So if you ever return to dating advice: I've found that some cultures admire junkie-thin women and some admire meat on a lady's bones. Without going on a fetishizing-the-exotic jag, a full-figured woman may find more attention from attractive Caribbean, African, or Pacific Island gentlemen. Cultivating an interest in reggae, samba, and other booty-shaking styles could open up a new dating scene for her. I say this only because some of my more zaftig friends have found love this way.

Love,
Fat girls' friend

Dear Friend: Sigh. Yeah. I've recommended the shake your groove thang thing and the cross-cultural dating thing, but halfheartedly, I'll admit. I don't much like giving dating advice; I just get frustrated. The truth is that beyond a sympathetic ear and a book or Web site recommendation or two, there really isn't that much an advice columnist can do. Sometimes perfectly worthy people go dateless just because life isn't fair. Dating advice is a feel-good activity for the giver, and that makes me feel bad.

I have known lively, attractive larger women like my correspondent to benefit from a trip abroad, but I dunno – it kinda reminds me of the sex educator (I shudder to say "former colleague") I once heard suggesting that, since you can't have sex with 11-year-olds here, a pedophile might want to go to Thailand, where you can. Oh, man, was I pissed. On second thought, it doesn't remind me of that at all. Going where everybody likes your ass is perfectly legit. In fact, it's a good idea. That was just me being a tenured professor of misanthropology again.

Love,
Andrea

Dear Andrea: I'm one of those "thin" women your correspondent might see and think can find sex/love any time. It's not necessarily so. Yeah, I'm thin, cute, nice, funny, smart, artistic, own my own business, and am happy – but I can't seem to find a guy either. I do meet men who find me attractive, but I've yet to meet my match. I love sex, but since sport sex makes me feel like I've had a snack when I want a full-course banquet, I've given it up. (Thank God for Good Vibrations.)

I see all kinds of women with guys looking happy and sometimes I wonder, "Why not me too?" But mostly I don't stress about it. I don't think that fat or thin makes as much of a difference as, hell, I don't know, maybe being in the right place at the right time? I know it's easier said than done, but for crying out loud stop comparing yourself to those other gals. It'll only make you feel lousy.

Love,
Alone and skinny

Dear Skinny:

I was you! I was thin, cute, smart, funny, and single. I fucking hated it. I've got to say I'm impressed with your poise and aplomb, and your ability to give a damn about somebody else's dissatisfaction while still wrestling with your own. You have a fine grasp on what it's really like out there for single women, and yet you don't sound jaded at all. Want a job?

Love,
Andrea