Thin privilege is being able to see a Broadway show.
I had tickets to a popular musical and arrived early. The seats were TINY. I sat down and the arm rests were digging into my sides. It was extremely uncomfortable.
About five minutes before curtain, two thin girls walked up. They had the seats next to mine and they did not look happy about it. One girl said to the other, “What am I supposed to do? She’s in half my seat!” This was true, unfortunately, because the SEATS WERE SO DAMN SMALL, but we’d both have to deal with it thanks to the architects.
Except not. The girls went to get an usher and pointed at me. The usher said, “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to find you a new seat.” I asked why. Every seat would be the same size. The girl said, “I’m really sorry to have to do this but I can’t even sit down.” Thanks. That makes it all better.
My seats were in row D, center. I was shown to row Q, side. I asked the usher why I was being forced to move and not the girls. He said, “Because you’ve paid for one ticket and we can’t have you occupying two sold seats. The seat beside this one was open.”
Thin privilege is not being completely humiliated by an usher in front of an entire seated audience and forced into worse seats than the ones you paid for.