Oh For Those Fries!

It all started the day I saw my boy – friend/ my fiancee’/ my soon – to – be – life – partner drooling over a Kate Moss snap in Vogue. Not that I’m implying Kate Moss isn’t something to look at. That ‘I have been hurt’ look in her eyes, the nose which, is a teeny bit short and a teeny bit flat of being perfect but manages to look just great on her, the neck that slopes down ever so gently…. oh, even I can look at her pictures for hours; well may be half an hour.

But there is a difference in the way I look at Kate Moss and in the way he was looking at her. See when I look at her snap, I look at her, as in the general picture with her head thrown back and the tease in the way the skirt has been arranged on her long long legs. He, on the other hand, wasn’t really looking at Kate Moss; I doubt if he even knows what she looks like. He was too busy concentrating on the rosy – tanned parts of her, on the curve of her waist, on the sweep of her hips, on the thrust of her pelvis, to bother much about the rest of her.

Sitting there, watching saliva dribble onto his chin, hearing that low moan emerge from his lips and seeing him unconsciously lick his lips, I felt as low as could be. My heart began to sink – down from my rib cage to my abdomen to my buttocks and then down down into my toes.

I dreamed of reaching out and practicing my Judo move on this ‘sicko’ sitting next to me. A friend of mine had coached me on the move, claiming you never knew when you might need it. This was a time when I definitely needed it. The move was great – a swift jab with the knee, a slight tap with the elbow and ah! it hurt the man right where it hurts the most.

I indulged in these thoughts for exactly two seconds but then stopped. I didn’t want a broken engagement on my hands especially when since I wasn’t that great looking, I doubt I’d be able to find another XY if I let this one go. I did think of doing something to that Vogue photographer though and I delved in this pleasure for a lot more than two seconds. I wasn’t going to use the Judo move on him; no, that would be giving it to him too easy. I was going to kill him very slowly; first I’d tie him up, coat the soles of his feet in salt and then set a goat to the task of licking those soles. Don’t know if you’re aware of this but goats have very rough tongues, which is why this form of punishment was pretty popular in the days when dungeons were in use. Whilst licking at the salt the goat would manage to peel away the layers of skin, allowing blood to start flowing out. The blood would start trickling out until at long last, the photographer would be sucked dry and would breathe his last, a very painful last.

But then, I reasoned with my self, supposing I did manage to do this. With my luck, Amnesty International or another one of those crazy human right organizations would insist that I be locked up and then where would I be.

My pleasures over, I looked back at him. The saliva was still dribbling; his eyelashes had started to droop and he had even started to make little kissing noises. I picked up my purse and walked out. I had made up my mind; no husband of mine was going to drool at any female other than me. If Kate Moss could do it, well so could I?

I visited a Surgeon the very next day, to ask about one of those Liposuction procedures where they put a tube inside you and suck out the fat. When I heard the price, I sighed and thought, there goes the Cartier I had been saving up for over a year but the Cartier was no sacrifice if the surgeon could promise me twenty pounds off my skeleton. But the Surgeon’s next words made me realize Liposuction was just not it.

“You’re going to have permanent scars on your tummy.”

The last time I checked, Kate Moss had a scarless tummy so I had to find another way out. I walked home. Took off my clothes and scrutinized my self in the mirror. Hmmnn… big breasts (that was the good part), but something needed to be done to the lumpy tummy and the sticking out bottom. Well that’s it, I firmly decided, only one meal per day. That very night my family decided to go to KFC. I love KFC and usually end up ordering a Zinger, a large order of fries, a nice cool Coke and a Brownie to go. This time I just sat there miserably, eyeing those yellowish golden fries with the thin brown edges.

I could almost taste them – first I’d smear one end with tomato ketchup. Then I’d take a bite of the tomato coated part; oh, the crunch, the crispness and then the soft mashy potato insides, mixed with the mellow tomato sauce.

At that very minute, my brother asked; “Fry?” The yes was on the tip of my tongue when a picture of Kate Moss crept in front of my eyes. Kate Moss had probably never eaten fries in her entire life. Biting my lips so hard I could almost taste my blood, I shook my head. My brother looked at me as if I’d gone crazy and I didn’t blame him. It was a habit with me to steal fries off everyone’s plates, which is what made my family start to call me ‘Fast Potato Fingers’. This was probably the first time I had turned down an offer for fries but my brother didn’t say anything; he just looked at my father and mouthed the words; “Women?” My Dad grinned back. I felt like dousing them both with Pepsi. What did they mean Women? It was Men who made us this way; if my….. My thoughts were interrupted when my brother lifted his Zinger to his lips. A glob of the mayonnaise slipped out from the burger onto his wrist. He shrugged and licked it off. My stomach gave a lurch; if there was one thing I couldn’t resist, it was Mayo and there was loads of it in that burger. Oh, and there was melted cheese too; my eyes had now started to water, there was just so much that I could bear.

Just as my family were disposing of their trays I rushed up, almost ran to the counter and ordered a Zinger meal and a Brownie. My brother raised an eye brow but said nothing. The rest just ignored me as I sat in the back seat of the car, gulping my sinful meal. It was only when I reached home that Kate Moss hit me again. Oh my God, I thought, what have I done? I ran to my bathroom, dropped on the floor next to the flush and started poking a finger into my throat. Come on, vomit but no, the Zinger remained snug secure inside.

Just as the tears were about to start coming, I saw my brother’s shaving set he had left in my bathroom by mistake. That gave me an idea. I picked up the bag and removed the packet of blades from inside. I ripped open one blade and stared at it. There it sat in my pal, glistening brightly, almost as if it was mocking me. I started muttering ‘Kate Moss’, ‘Kate Moss’ to my self. Squeezing my eyes shut and trying to conjure up the image of my fiancée with Ms. Moss (both of them naked) I took a deep breath and slip the blade down my arm.

Blood started gushing out. Gosh, I was scared; I’d never seen it gush out that fast before. It was a deep, deep red (more like a chocolatey red than an organgy red). I felt a strange sense of relief in watching the little rivers of blood trickle down my arm; that’s right, I whispered, flow away and take all the fats with you. I must have lost at least 500 calories by now, I thought noting with pleasure that hardly any part of my right arm remained uncovered by blood. Just a minute more and then I’ll bandage it all up. I stretched my self to reach the medicine cupboard but I just couldn’t reach it. Strange, I thought, I sure wasn’t any shorter than I was last week.

I turned around and saw that there was no sign of blood on my arm. In fact, my arm was as clean and smooth as could be and there a pretty Diamond bracelet was clasped on my wrist. As I traced the intricate design of the bracelet, I wondered where it had come from. A whiff of something that smelled like rose water made me look up. My flush and sink had all disappeared and in their place was a huge meadow. I was sitting under an oak tree in the meadow with loads and loads of rose bouquets all around me. A thin stream flowed at my feet and as I bent down to look at the shells in the bed of the stream, everything suddenly went black.

I looked up to see a snake tied to my arm; as I rubbed my eyes and looked again, I saw it was an IV syringe. A Doctor was adjusting the IV and on seeing me awake said; “You’re very lucky,” he solemnly stated, “I was sure we had lost you but then at the last minute you suddenly pulled your self through. What made you do it?” And I looked at him and I wondered if Kate Moss had a Doctor as handsome as this one?