Thanks to Bri, I've come across this odd piece that reveals yet again that when fatness is not defined or informed by fat people or rational observation of us, it's all about those who are defining it.
Their preoccupations, their fetishes. Their creepy untrammelled unconscious that they usually keep repressed, maybe they don't even know it's there. Maybe it's even created by the decision to yield to fat phobia itself. Liberation of that subterranean hinterland is rarely pretty. But when this kind of crap is aimed at childhood, or those barely out of it, you wonder why these people don't remember themselves a bit more.
Their unprompted unconscious is showing a lot more than we want to see. Whether it's paedo appraisal of every aspect of a children and youngsters physiques, usually by women, presumably feeling they can get away with this sort of nonsense due to the apocryphal pretense that we can hardly be interested in the barely legal and stuff like that.
I actually feel that it is fat hate spreading to various areas of the mind, on the power of it's own momentum and the nature of sexual desire itself that promotes this effect and it's voyeuristic compulsions.
It's funny, she did seem to feel a little bit dirty about it too, describing herself as glad that the object of her affections hadn't notice her gawk eyed lasciviousness of the youngster she was observing, rather than a sudden awareness of the power this unexpected re-route had over her.
It gives a whole new meaning to the expression, "fat porn", which is supposed to be those weight loss programmes on TV, clearly those people don't get out much.
She actually manages to inveigle the reader as a co conspirator with her "attention to detail". I feel like I'm seeing a part of her I didn't really want to see like if she just posted a picture of her naughty bits.
First the drooling set up;
She was sitting with her back to me as I entered the ice cream place with my kids. She was very big – most likely not just medically overweight, but obese.
I think it's because she tells us three times in succession, what a big girl she is, that it reads like the set up to soft porn.
As she was waiting to buy her own crackscream, she surreptitiously glanced at her, again.
The author tells us how young and nubile this young lady was. About her fast mouth and her extra large cone in one hand. Oh, stop it! 'Feverishly texting', because how often do the youth text at more than a older person's snail's pace?
Then we start getting towards the money shot;
'She looked almost drugged – drugged with sugar I guess.'
Oh, by no means Mz Thing, it's you who sounds drugged and hypnotized. I bet when you managed to tear your eyes away they made a noise like breaking suction.
In the tradition of this kind of thing she has to flog a stereotype, she tells us of the orgasmic level of pleasure us fattez get from eatin'. Facility with hands also gets a special mention.
It was obvious that the eating and texting were giving her intense pleasure, soothing her.
Oh, rilly?
Well do me a favour love, buy an ice cream and pleasure yourself, see how long it takes you not to be able to eat then tell us that orgasm is compatible with eating.
It's a little unnerving if young fat people, especially if made shier by their fatness, could be subject not simply to disapproval, but the projection of this dubious kind of gaze, but I suppose that this kind of thing maybe inevitable. That doesn't make it any less edifying.I kept wondering why people keep mentioning their sex organs when it comes to any discussions around fatness.
It's always the excuse that it was the other person, never you. You were just "innocently" minding your own beeswax.
Unfortunately our intrepid authorette remembers back to this little episode as a cautionary tale, when thinking of fat acceptance. (your guess is as good as mine).
If you're feeling a bit queasy at that thought, you are not alone.
And if anyone knows the secret of getting a textingicecreameatingorgasm.
Feel free to share.
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