At Shambhala last month, one of my camp-mates was a 19-year-old Polish woman named Ola. She was visiting her American aunt for the summer, and somehow her aunt had decided Ola should get out and see things, so she’d come to Shambhala with a family friend.

Beautiful OlaOla was beautiful. I mean, stunningly perfectly beautiful with a kewpie doll mouth and huge blue eyes and an impeccable figure. She’d packed jeans and t-shirts to wear at Shambhala, but of course she’d ended up camped with a dozen freaks with tupperware tubs full of festival finery, so it was only a matter of time before Ola became our living barbie doll.

“Here, Ola — wear these raver pants!” we’d say, and she’d oblige. “Wait, put on this fuzzy purple hat!,” we’d hollar, and she’d oblige.

One afternoon, as Dawn and I were helping Ola dress up in yet another outfit, I told her how great one of my dresses looked on her — how it complimented her figure perfectly. Dawn agreed, but Ola just shook her head.

“I am fat,” she said in her thick accent. “My butt is big.”

Dawn and I looked at her, and then looked at each other and said in unison, “Oh, don’t play that game.” Then we both went on a friendly harangue.

“That game’s a waste of everyone’s time — especially yours,” I said.

“Your figure is perfect and you don’t need to pretend it’s not for OUR sake,” Dawn said.

“Seriously,” I laughed. “Don’t play that game.”

It was interesting to see how strong both Dawn’s and my responses were. The “I’m so fat” game is one that I think everyone’s played at some point with their girlfriends, and it’s always silly. But somehow it wasn’t until I saw a 19-year-old with an impeccable Eastern European figure try to play it that I realized just HOW silly it really is. We compliment her, she degrades herself, and we’re supposed to feel better about ourselves and then compliment her further. Silly! I’m glad I don’t feel the need to play that game any more.

But then I started wondering … what other games am I still playing that are equally silly?